


Game Night

by Wrespawn



Category: Gmod: Murder, Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Blackmail, Blood, Blood Loss, Collars, Communication, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Fear, Female Jack Pattillo, Gun Violence, Guns, Humiliation, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Knifeplay, Knives, M/M, Murder, OT6, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Protective Geoff Ramsey, Protective Ryan Haywood, Rape Roleplay, Rough Sex, Temporary Character Death, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Jack Pattillo, Voyeurism, also a bit of normal voyeurism, consensual murder, in a weird murder-voyeurism sort of way, obligatory swimsuit episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 88,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn
Summary: On weekends, the Crew that can’t die likes to go somewhere secluded and kill each other for fun.  The game is called Murder, and this is Jeremy’s first time playing.This is a fic in the respawn!verse.  (https://archiveofourown.org/works/17510561)  The murder is not permanent.Warnings: This fic contains murder and sex.  For consent purposes, both the murder and sex can be considered a consensual roleplay of nonconsent.  Everyone involved is okay with everything that happens.  The murder is bloody and onscreen.  Both gun and knife violence play a role.  See notes on individual chapters for more detailed warnings.This is a collaboration with alastair-made-me-undo-it.tumblr.com!





	1. Ruleset

The beer can  _clanged_ as a bullet blasted through it and ripped it off the table.  It clattered to the floor alongside a dozen other bullet-punctured cans.  

Jeremy lowered his pistol with a soft exhale.  Wind gusted across the empty lot as he reloaded his gun and raised it again.  Three more cans sat on the table, labels glinting dully in the overcast daylight.  Jeremy narrowed his eyes and aimed.

_Bang_

Another can skittered off the table, a fresh bullet hole torn through its aluminum side.  Jeremy adjusted his aim several degrees, sights locked on the next beer can.  His finger was beginning to squeeze the trigger when a strange sound made him look up.

The unmistakable whirring thrum of a helicopter was slowly growing louder.

Jeremy turned, scanning the cloudy skies.  His gun snapped up as he caught sight of a helicopter closing in.  He took a breath, waiting.  He could almost see the silhouette of the pilot through the glass.

The helicopter turned as it swooped in, and Jeremy lowered his weapon with a sudden laugh.  There was no mistaking the big green star emblazoned on the side of that aircraft.  He slipped his pistol into its holster as the helicopter landed, the door already flung open before it touched the ground.

“What are you guys doing?” he called.

The crew was all packed into the cramped cockpit, shoulder to shoulder.  Now that it was close enough to see through the glass, Jeremy could see Jack in the pilot’s seat.

“Get in, loser!” called Ryan.  “It’s game night!”

“Great!  What’s game night?”

Geoff was holding out his hand.  “Fake AH Crew tradition!  Come on in, everyone’s waiting!”

Jeremy grabbed Geoff’s hand, letting the man haul him into the crowded chopper.  He flopped into the narrow space between Michael and Ryan as door was slammed shut and the chopper began to lift away from the ground.  

“Jack —“  Jeremy leaned towards the cockpit.  “I almost shot the  _shit_ out of you when I saw the chopper.”

“Oh jesus, the chopper would have crashed and  _everyone_ would have had to reset.  Holy shitthat would have been a pain.”

Jeremy peered out the window and watched as the city dropped away below them.  “So what’s game night?”

Gavin was bouncing with excitement.  “Ooooh Jeremy’s never played before!”

Michael elbowed him in the ribs, so hard Jeremy winced.  “You’re gonna love it, game night is great.”

“How do we play?”

“First off, take a communicator.”  Geoff pointed to the pile of what appeared to be handcuffs on the floor.  “Take one of these too.”

“ … Okay…”  Gingerly, Jeremy picked up a com and one of the cuffs.  “And that’s for?”

“We’ll explain on the way.  Take one of the boxes, and don’t open it yet.”

Jeremy shrugged.  He put his com in, clipped the cuffs to his belt, and picked up a box.  It was metal, heavier than it looked, and about large enough to hold a handgun.  The rest of the crew were grabbing objects off the floor as well, each member taking a box, a com, and a pair of cuffs.

“If I get an empty again, I’m gonna be pissed,” huffed Ryan, glaring at his box as though it had wronged him.

Gavin pointed at Jeremy’s hip suddenly.  “Oi, cheater!  Jeremy’s cheating, you can’t bring that!”

Jeremy frowned.  “ … I can’t bring my dick to game night?”

“The pistol, dumbass.”  Geoff held out his hand.  “No bringing weapons into the ring.  You better leave that on the chopper.”

Jeremy sighed and pulled the holster off his belt, handing it over to Geoff.  Geoff placed it on the floor, where the piles of gear used to be.

“So what’s this game we’re playing?” Jeremy pressed.

“Hang on.”  Geoff slipped his com in his ear and pressed it.  “Testing coms now.  Testing.”

“Mine works,” said Gavin.

“Works.”

“Mine too.”

“Eyyyo!”

Each voice sounded off in Jeremy’s ear.  He gave Geoff a thumbs-up.  “All good.”

“Cool, coms work.”  Geoff clapped his hands together.  “We’re doing the warehouse map this time, guys!  Got the cameras all fixed, so it’s ready to go again!”

“You’re welcome,” called Jack’s voice from the pilot’s seat.

“Oooh, that’s a good map.  Big one, though.”

Jeremy glanced out the window.  He could see the city receding in the distance as Jack flew them off into the rocky wilderness that surrounded it.  “… Okay, so can someone tell me what game we’re playing?”

Geoff smiled behind his beard, clasped his hands, and leaned on them.  “The game is called Murder.”

“Felonies aren’t games, Geoff.”

“Shut up, smartass.  So Jack’s flying us to the site right now, she’s gonna drop us all off in different places and then she’s gonna join us.  You’ll drop outside the warehouse, but once the game starts, you’re not supposed to leave it.”

“And what do I do in this warehouse?”

Geoff held up one finger.  “Don’t die.”  He held up another one.  “Look for boxes like the one you started with.  There’s good shit in ‘em.”

Jeremy’s heart skipped.  “ … Don’t  _die_?”

“Yeah.  Pretty straightforward.”

“Okay, closing in on the first drop point,” called Jack from the pilot’s seat.  Jeremy grabbed the wall for support as the aircraft lurched downwards.  “Someone get ready.”

“Let Jeremy drop first,” suggested Michael.  “It’s his first time.”

Geoff wrenched open the helicopter door, and the noise of chopping blades flooded the cockpit.   The ground was blissfully close below.

“Wait, what?”  Jeremy pulled back from the open door.  “What does that mean?”

Jeremy wheezed as Michael gave him a hard shove in the back.

“It means get the fuck out of the chopper.”

Jeremy stumbled as he hit the ground, but kept his balance.  He turned back to the helicopter, and the crew, to see them waving.

Geoff gave him a thumbs-up.  “See you inside!”

Jeremy flung his arms out.  “What’s the fucking game?”

The door closed and the aircraft began to lift away, aggressive chopping thrum growing quieter.  Jeremy let his arms drop as he watched it sail away into the overcast sky.  With a heavy sigh, he turned his gaze to his surroundings.  

The city was a steely silhouette in the distance.  Between Jeremy and the distant etchings of civilization stretched rocky terrain broken by scraggly trees, one or two dusty roads carving up the landscape.  Clutching his box and handcuffs, Jeremy turned to face the warehouse.  The structure was long since ruined, the old walls layered with graffiti, iron support beams exposed where concrete had cracked.  Through the old doors and broken walls, he could see it stretching back, room after room into the darkness.  Artificial lights glinted in the gloom, too crisp and clear to have been a part of the warehouse’s original installation.  This space had been curated for a purpose.

Jeremy touched his com.  “Uh.  Testing?”

_“Yeah, we hear you.”_

“Okay, I’ve been dropped in the middle of nowhere with handcuffs and a mysterious box, will someone please explain what the hell we’re doing?”

_“Right, everyone shut up —“_

_“Yeah, guys, shut the fuck up while Geoff explains the rules!”_

_“ … Thank you, Michael.  Okay, so four of us are unarmed bystanders, one of us is a bystander with a gun, and one of us is the killer with a knife.  Look inside your box to see which one you are.”_

Jeremy clicked the latch on his box and creaked it open.  “ … Uh, guys?  I think there’s a problem.  Mine’s empty.”

 _“That means you’re an unarmed bystander,”_ provided Jack.

Geoff scoffed through the com.   _“Suuuuuure it’s empty.  Jeremy thinks he can pull one over on us.”_

 _“Jeremy’s the killer, guys!”_ proclaimed Michael.

_“Wait, but he doesn’t know the rules.  He might actually be innocent.”_

Michael’s voice sounded unconvinced.   _“Unless that’s what he wants you to think.”_

Jeremy adjusted his com and closed his box.  “Michael, come on, I’m not that clever.  So how do we play, Geoff?”

_“The game’s simple.  The killer tries to kill everyone, and the bystanders —“_

“Hold up.”  Jeremy interrupted.  A strange chill was spreading up his spine.   _Don’t die,_  Geoff had said.  “When you say  _kill,_ you really mean… ”

The warehouse suddenly felt very big and very still.  Jeremy’s gaze darted through the concrete maze looming before him.  His breath was quick, shallow.  Six crew members.  Six pulses.  One knife.  

“ … You really mean  _kill,_ don’t you?” he breathed.

Geoff groaned over the com.  _“ … Oh come on, guys!  Did no one tell Jeremy we were going to literally kill each other?  You don’t think that’s an important detail?”_

Jack chimed in.   _“Jeremy, you don’t have to play if you don’t want.  I’ll pick you up and we can reset.  There’s screens back at base so you can watch if you like.”_

 _“Yeah, no one wants you feeling uncomfortable,”_  added Ryan.   _“This is consensual murder.”_

“No!  No, it’s okay!”  Jeremy heaved a deep breath.  “I’m… fuck… I’m good.  I’m good.  Just uh… shaking.”

_“Scared?”_

“Excited.”

_“Jeremy’s the killer, guys.  Someone shoot him.”_

_“Nuh uh.  Michael’s got the gun and Michael ain’t puttin’ on no handcuffs.  I’ll shoot Jeremy when I see him whip out a damn knife.”_

Jeremy frowned.  “… Yeah, about those handcuffs — ”

A chorus of voices blasted through Jeremy’s headset, making him wince.

_“Handcuffs!”_

_“Das handcuffs!”_

_“Handcuuuuuuuuffs!”_

Jeremy rubbed his aching ear.  “ … Okay, why does everyone have handcuffs?”

Jack’s voice responded.   _“It’s to keep the person with the gun from shooting anyone who looks at them wrong.  You shoot someone who’s not the killer, you gotta drop the gun and put the handcuffs on behind your back.  No more firing a gun, and no fighting back once the killer finds you.”_

Jeremy’s heart skipped.  “ … O-oh.  Shit.”

 _“That’s on an honor system, by the way,”_ Geoff added.   _“And don’t go around cuffing people.  You can only use them to cuff yourself if you shoot the wrong person, nothing else.”_

Ryan’s voice interrupted with a loud groan.   _“God fucking dammit!”_

_“ … Can we help you, Ryan?”_

_“Empty box again.”_

_“Ryan’s the killer, guys.”_

_“I am not the killer!  Believe me, I wish I was!”_

_“So are we starting?  Is everyone dropped?”_

_“Yep, everyone’s dropped and I just parked the chopper.  Game on!”_

Jeremy snapped his box shut, his pulse skipping like a flighty animal.  He turned to the looming warehouse and took a deep breath.  Look for boxes.  Don’t die.  Play the game called Murder.

_“Good luck out there, lads, remember to always trust your boy Gavvy.”_

_“Gavin, I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”_

Jeremy stepped into the warehouse.

Ruined concrete closed around him.  Jeremy scanned the broken walls and doorways as he picked his way around the rubble.  The sterile lights cast strange shadows.  Gravel crunched under his shoes as he stepped through a shattered hole in the wall and into the next room, leaving the daylight behind.

 _“Oh, Jeremy!”_ Geoff’s voice in the com made him jump.   _“Keep your kills clean for now, yeah?   No weird shit, don’t go ripping out eyeballs or anything.”_

_“Aw fuck, we forgot to talk boundaries.”_

Jeremy peered around a corner and down a dusty hall.  No sign of another living person.  Cautiously, he crept down the hall, ducking under hanging chains.  Between every breath, he listened for the crunch of another pair of footsteps picking through the rubble.

“ … Boundaries, huh?” he murmured into his mic, keeping his voice quiet.

 _“Yeah, some of the guys really don’t like being killed in certain ways,_ ” Jack answered. _“But everyone’s okay with a quick shot to the head or chest, so just stick to that and we’ll be good.”_

 _“Later, when you know everyone’s boundaries, you can get creative,”_ Ryan added.

Jeremy peeked through a doorway.  A dusty storage room greeted him, the empty shelves long rusted.  He picked his way through the room carefully, stepping over fallen shelves.  “Sounds fun.  Wish I had a weapon.”

_“Look around and you can find one.  There’s gun parts scattered around the compound in boxes.  Find enough and you can assemble them into a full gun.  No using a gun if you’re the killer, but you can totally steal the parts so other people can’t use them.”_

_“Oh, and if someone says ‘safeword,’ stop everything you’re doing.  We play nice here, boys.”_

_“What am I, chopped liver?”_

_“Boys and Jack.”_

Jeremy rounded a corner and almost collided with Ryan.

“Sh-shit fuck fuck fuck —“  Jeremy reeled back as Ryan did the same.  “H-holy  _shit,_ Ryan —“  

“If I die, it’s Jeremy!” Ryan shouted into his mic.  

Jeremy’s jaw tensed.  “W-well if I die, it’s Ryan!”

“If I were the killer, you’d be dead already!”

Jeremy caught his breath.  He could see Ryan doing the same.  Fuck.  This was how the game worked.  Messy, panicked encounters like this, full of fear and desperation, ending in a gunshot or a meaty slice.  It felt so chillingly  _real_ now, face to face with Ryan.

The game was called Murder, and these concrete floors were going to taste blood soon.

“ … We cool?” Ryan ventured.

Jeremy’s head was still spinning.  “W-we’re cool so long as you move along.”

“Sure.”  Ryan hesitated.  “ … Unless…”

“ … Unless what?”

Ryan pulled his mic away from his mouth, starting to smile.  “As long as no one else is around… wanna grab a quickie?”

Jeremy’s heart jumped.  “ … Do you seriously think I’m going to fall for that?”

“C’mon, I’m not gonna stab you.  Not with a knife, anyway.”

“How do you know that  _I’m_ not the killer, huh?”  Jeremy took a step back.  “There’s only one way you could know for sure.”

“Maybe I  _don’t_  know that.”  Ryan shrugged.  “Maybe I’m just horny.  There’s only, what… a twenty percent chance you slit my throat?  Sounds worth it.”

Geoff’s voice buzzed in Jeremy’s ear.   _“Jeremy, who are you talking to?”_

“Ryan,” Jeremy snapped, glaring at him.  “He’s being weird.”

_“Oh shit.  Weird in a killer-y way?”_

“Yeah, might be weird in a killer-y way.”

Ryan held a finger over his smile.  “Only a twenty percent chance I’ll slit your throat either.  So how horny are  _you_?”

 _Horny enough,_ Jeremy thought.  The fear and anticipation had his heart racing, and just the thought of trying to fuck in a place like this was making him dizzy.  A rushed, panicked rut on the concrete, adrenaline burning through his veins, hushed breath and sweaty skin-on-skin, never knowing if the next breath would be the last…

Michael’s voice was rough over the com.   _“So is Ryan the killer or not?  Am I shooting him next time I see him?”_

Jeremy pulled the mic away from his mouth.  “Ask me back at headquarters,” he whispered to Ryan.  He pulled the mic back.  “He hasn’t pulled out a knife but I’m not gonna complain if you gun him down.”

Ryan frowned.  “Thanks, I’ll fuck you harder for that.”  He pulled his own mic back into place and pointed at something behind Jeremy.  “You gonna pick up that gun piece?”

Jeremy turned, caught a glimpse of a metal box sitting on the table behind him, then spun back towards Ryan.  “ … A-all yours,” he mumbled.  He didn’t step out of the way.

Ryan hesitated for a moment.  Then, he took a step towards the table, then another.  It was trust, risk.  Jeremy held his breath as Ryan stepped closer.  Fuck.  Arm range.  He was too tense to move as Ryan closed the gap.

Ryan’s shoulder brushed Jeremy as he passed.  Jeremy tensed, chest heaving slightly, and Ryan stepped past him.

Fuck.  Past him.  Ryan touched him, and nothing happened.  For a moment, the air seemed perfectly still.   Jeremy swallowed.  He reached slowly into his pocket, closed his hand around the knife, and flicked the blade open.

He had to do it now.  Now.  Before Ryan turned around.  Before he saw the knife.

“Two gun parts for me,” Ryan announced to his com, his back turned to Jeremy as he opened the box.  “Well on my way.”

Now.   _Now._

Jeremy cursed under his breath and grabbed Ryan from behind, slapping a hand over his mouth and flicking the knife up under his jaw, blade pressed against his throat.

 _Slit him open._ Jeremy’s breath was heavy against Ryan’s shoulder, his hand shaking, the knife wobbling on Ryan’s neck.  He could feel Ryan’s breath muffled against his palm, quick and terrified, his body frozen with fear.   _One quick slice.  Blood everywhere.  Kill him kill him kill him._

Jeremy’s knife wouldn’t move.  

Fuck.  Fuck.  Was he losing his nerve?  His first game night with the crew, and he couldn’t play on their level?  No, that couldn’t be it, because this didn’t feel bad.  This felt good.  So good it was paralyzing, debilitating euphoria.  He could hear Ryan’s breath, feel him trembling where they were pressed together.  Ryan’s hands were lifted in surrender, gun parts dropped to the floor.  Solid, warm, helpless,  _his._

He didn’t want to kill Ryan yet.  Didn’t want it to be over yet.  Didn’t want to stop feeling this  _high,_ the press of a terrified body against his, the panicked heat of muffled breath against his palm.  He wanted to savor this.  Draw it out.  Relish it.

Jeremy leaned close to Ryan’s ear, the one without a com in it.  He whispered, too soft for his own mic to pick up, barely breathing the words.

“ … You still wanna fuck, Ryan?”

He could feel Ryan shudder, feel a muffled noise against his palm.

“Drop your pants,” Jeremy whispered.  “And don’t scream.”

He slid his hand off Ryan’s mouth.  

The next few seconds were some of the most terrifying of Jeremy’s life.  Ryan’s com was close to his lips, his breath steaming on the mic.

Ryan swallowed.  He lowered his hands, and silently, started undoing his pants.

Holy  _fuck._

Jeremy’s head was spinning as Ryan’s pants dragged down, sudden bare skin against his clothed body.  He kept his knife against Ryan’s throat.  Fuck.  Fuck.  He’d have to slice  _quick_ if Ryan tried to say anything.  It would only take a fraction of a second to get out three accusing syllables.  

_Jer-em-y._

Then everyone would know, and every gun in the warehouse would be trained on his head.

As long as Ryan’s throat was intact, he could still rat Jeremy out.  The knowledge should have moved Jeremy’s knife, but instead it moved his other hand, fumbling to get his pants open.  This was more than just a head-spinning power trip, his arousal was so intense it seemed to throb in his skull.  He groaned as he slipped his dick out, letting it sandwich between their bodies, pressed against Ryan’s ass.

“You asked to fuck, so you’ve got lube.”  Jeremy was stammering the words against Ryan’s neck, barely daring to speak above a whisper.  “Get it out.  Finger yourself.”

Ryan’s hand shook as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle.  “B-bastard,” he hissed.

Jeremy’s jaw tensed.  “Stay quiet or you die quicker.”

The  _pop_  of the lube bottle opening felt like a gunshot.  Jeremy’s heart pounded as Ryan took longer to lube his fingers than Jeremy had  _ever_ seen him take before.  He could feel Ryan’s slick fingers reach between their bodies, bump against his dick, then press into the crease.  Ryan’s breath hitched as his fingers slid inside.

“Ah —“  Ryan bit his lip hard to muffle the noise.  “Nnnh…”

The sound of a voice over the com almost stopped Jeremy’s heart.

_“Anyone dead yet?”_

_“Well, I’m not dead.”_

_“Nope.”_

_“Me neither.”_

Jeremy swallowed.  “Not dead over here.”  His voice almost broke.  He could feel the shift in Ryan’s knuckles against his dick, hear the soft slick noise of fingers working.  

_“Anyone besides Michael got a full gun yet?”_

_“I’m getting real close.”_

Jeremy groaned and rolled his hips against Ryan’s ass.  “I’m getting close too.”

_“The killer’s really laying low this round.”_

“Bend over the table,” Jeremy whispered against Ryan’s neck.

_“Ghhhhh I don’t like it!  I just want someone to die just so something happens!”_

_“You want me to shoot you, Gavin?  I can make something happen.”_

Ryan’s hand pulled out from between their bodies.  His fingers were still slick, leaving a smear on the rusted metal table as his white knuckles gripped it.  Ryan leaned forward, as much as he could with the knife at his throat, and pressed his hips back against Jeremy’s dick.

It felt like begging.  Begging for cock, begging for his life.  Jeremy was only going to give Ryan one of those things.

It was a fumble to get his dick inside with his hand shaking so hard.  Jeremy buried his face in Ryan’s neck with a groan as he finally sunk inside.  Oh fuck.  Fuck.  Warm and tight and slick, and his to use however he wanted.  He could hear Ryan struggling to keep quiet, hear muffled grunts and half-whines as he slowly sunk in.

_“Shit, guys, Ryan’s been real quiet.  Ryan, are you dead?”_

Jeremy’s heart shot into his throat and he froze.  His shaking hand pressed the knife harder against Ryan’s neck.

“ … Ryan?” he ventured.  “Say something if you’re alive.”

Ryan’s breath seemed to stop.  Jeremy’s chest heaved as he waited.

“ … I-I’m alive,” Ryan said at last.

_“Jesus, man, it sounds like you’re trying to give CPR to your mic.  What the fuck are you doing over there?”_

Jeremy shuddered as he rolled his hips with sudden urgency.  “Is it the killer, Ryan?”  He hoped that the tremor in his voice sounded like fear.  “Are you being chased?  Who is it?”

Ryan swallowed, his hands shaking against the table, his jaw tense.  “ … No,” he managed.  “Just — out of breath from running up and down these damn stairs looking for gun parts.”

_“Huh, didn’t know there were stairs on this site.”_

“Yeah,” Ryan ground out, “that’s weird, right?”

Jeremy dug the knife in until Ryan winced in pain.  “Are you  _sure_ it’s not the killer, Ryan?”

 _“Found another gun piece!”_ called Jack.   _“Just need a barrel and I’m armed!”_

_“Ah piss, I haven’t got a damn one!”_

Ryan’s whimper of frustration was so satisfying that Jeremy almost groaned into his mic.  It was getting harder and harder not to let sounds of pleasure slip through his teeth.  Ryan was so  _tight,_ strong thighs shaking under Jeremy’s thrusts.  That panicked pulse must be racing against the keen edge of his blade, tender and vulnerable…

“Nnnh —“  Jeremy’s breath was getting heavy.  “O-oh fuck —“

_“What?  Who’s cursing?  What’s going on?”_

_“I think Jeremy’s about to jizz.”_

Jeremy shuddered and his hips twitched.  “Sh-shut up, Michael —“

_“Speaking of Jeremy, where the hell is he?  I haven’t seen him once.”_

Ryan was half-snarling, half begging into the mic.  “K-keep looking, he’s — ah — around here somewhere!”

_“Those must be some stairs you’ve found, Ryan, it sounds like they’re blowing you.”_

“F-fucking —“  Ryan’s exasperation dragged out of him in a long whine.  “P- _please_ —“

The  _please_ was too much.  The pleasure crested, and Jeremy’s desire to fuck was suddenly eclipsed by a desire to  _cut._

The knife slashed across Ryan’s throat, cutting through skin and meat and hitting bone.  Ryan made a noise, a choked-off wet gasp.  Jeremy made a noise too.

“A- _ahhh_  —“  Jeremy’s hips jerked, pressing hard against Ryan as he came with blood gushing over his hand.  “Oh  _fuck —“_

_“What happened?  Is someone dead?”_

“Nnnnnnh —“  Jeremy almost dropped the knife as his dick throbbed.  He pressed his face into Ryan’s neck, shaking in the aftershocks.  “N-nothing, nothing happened — oh fuck —“

_“Oh no.  I don’t like how that sounds.”_

Jeremy staggered back, and Ryan slumped to the floor.  In a daze, he tucked his still-twitching dick back into his pants.  His gaze drifted down, and the remaining air left his lungs.

“Oh… fuck…”

The rush hit him like a sledgehammer, more intense than the orgasm had been.  Jeremy’s chest heaved as he stared at the limp body at his feet.  Each heartbeat was a deep, body-shaking pump that made his vision reel.  The blood was hot hot hot, pouring like sweet wine down his arm as the knife wobbled in his hand.  

Fuck…  _fuck…_

A squeak made Jeremy’s gaze snap up.

In the cracked concrete hall stood Gavin, frozen and pale-faced.  His wide-eyed gaze jumped from Jeremy’s face to Ryan’s limp body.  Jeremy’s hand tightened around the knife and blood dripped from his knuckles.

Gavin bolted.  Jeremy tore after him through the halls, footsteps pounding.

“He’s the killer he’s the killer Jeremy’s the killer!” Gavin was screaming into his com as he ran.  “Aaaaaaaaah he’s right behind me!  He got Ryan!”

Michael’s voice snarled through the mic.   _“I goddamn knew it!  Jeremy you sneaky little bastard!”_

A wild smile was overtaking Jeremy’s face as he raced through the warehouse after Gavin, knife dripping in his fist.  “Hey, Michael?  Guess what.”

_“What?”_

“Turns out I am that clever.”

_“You motherfucker.”_

“Yeah, my box wasn’t empty.”

“Michaaaaaael!”  Each of Gavin’s screams sent fresh throbs to Jeremy’s dick.  “Aaaaah Michael he’s gonna kill me, shoot him!

“Get back here, Gavin!”  Jeremy’s foot skidded on the filthy floor as he shot around a corner.  “Get back here you little slut, I’m gonna slit your —“

Michael stood at the end of the room, a pistol trained on Jeremy’s head.  Gavin cowered behind him, clinging to his arm as if for safety.

Jeremy skidded to a stop.  “Shi—“

Michael fired.

——

Jeremy opened his eyes.

The clone pod was a gentle nest around him, the glass top already slid open.  He could hear muffled roars of laughter from the group communication, not quite loud enough to drown out the soft hum of the clone pods.  Jeremy sat up, blinking and rubbing the respawn haze from his eyes.  The big screen in the corner of the room was lit up with views of the warehouse, and in front of it stood…

Ryan.

His back was to Jeremy, just like it had been before Jeremy pulled out the knife.  He was dressed in the simple spare clothes that the respawn room provided.  As Jeremy sat up, Ryan turned around and smiled while voices cheered over the coms.

_“Holy shit that round ended out of nowhere!”_

_“Michael, I thought I was a goner!  You saved me, boy!”_

Geoff’s voice pushed through the cheering,  _“Whoa whoa whoa, what happened?  Who died?  Is it over?”_

_“Michael shot that murderous bastard Jeremy!”_

_“I can’t believe Jeremy was the killer on his first round ever!”_

_“So Jeremy was the killer?”_

_“Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure he was the killer,”_ Michael drawled over the com.   _“He was holding a knife and fucking covered in blood.  Hey, Jeremy, tell Geoff you were the killer, because evidently he didn’t hear it when you fucking announced it earlier.”_

Ryan leaned towards a mic.  “Jeremy’s a little dazed right now, but he was definitely the killer.”

_“Did you get got, Ryan?”_

“I got got.”  Ryan leaned back from the mic, speaking now just to Jeremy.  “Not bad for your first round, even if you only got one kill.”

Jeremy smiled as he swung his legs out of the clone pod.  “Yeah, but it was a damn good kill.”  

“Felt good to see Micheal gun you down like a rabid dog.”

“Pssh.”  Jeremy strode to the shelf of clothes.  He grabbed a pair of boxers.  “You know what else felt good?  Cutting your throat while I came in your ass.”

“Touche.  You know, fucking your victims isn’t exactly against the rules, but… as you found out, real risky.”  Ryan crossed his arms, a small motion that Jeremy had seen him do dozens of times, achingly familiar.  “I can’t believe no one caught you sooner.”

Jeremy pulled a shirt off the shelf, but didn’t move to put it on, his gaze snagged.   _Ryan._ It was too much, suddenly, just to see him standing there.  To see the shift of breath in his chest, hear his familiar low voice, see his neck unbroken by a slash of gore.  No trace of the knife Jeremy had sliced through his throat.

Ryan’s brow pursed.  “ … You’re staring.”

Jeremy looked away quickly.  He tugged the shirt on.  “Sorry.  Uh.  It’s good to see you standing, that’s all.”

A strange look was spreading across Ryan’s face.  “ … That was your first time, wasn’t it?”

“I mean… that’s the first time I’ve fucked you  _today…_ ”

“No, I mean that was your first murder _._ ”  Ryan crossed the room, stepping close to Jeremy.  “That was your first time killing one of  _us._ A Fake.  Wasn’t it?”

There were no knives here, no guns, no concrete jungle hiding killers, but Jeremy’s heart was thumping all the same.  The look Ryan was giving him felt more intense than any bedroom look.

“How’d it feel?” Ryan murmured.

Jeremy swallowed.  “ … Felt like being alive.”

“Mmh.”  He could hear the soft hitch in Ryan’s breath.  “Damn.  I’m glad I got to pop your cherry.”

The crackle of Jack’s voice over the com pulled both of their gazes back to the screen.

_“You guys wanna reset and go another round?”_

_“Yeah!”_

_“Let’s do it!”_

_“Hey, Jeremy, what did you think?  You like playing Murder?”_

Jeremy crossed the room to the screens.  He could see views of the warehouse, his buddies scattered through the complex.  His fresh new body wasn’t flooded with adrenaline yet, but he could already feel his heart rate picking up.

He leaned towards the mic with a smile.  “Let’s start the next round.”


	2. Tutorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In collaboration with @alastair-made-me-undo-it on tumblr!

Jeremy opened his eyes and took his first breath, staring up out of a freshly opened clone pod.  For a moment, he lay there in stillness, listening to the soothing hum of the machines and the distant chatter of voices over the com.  The musty, gloomy warehouse that he had been standing in not so long ago was wiped away.

If he was waking up in the respawn room, then he must have already lost the game of Murder, but he barely remembered what happened.  One minute he’d been creeping through the warehouse with his heart in his throat, the next second a hand had pressed over his mouth and he’d heard a soft, pleased groan, then… a line of heat across his neck…

He couldn’t remember anything else, not until the gentle hum of the respawn room coaxed him to wakefulness.

Jeremy sat up, rubbing a hand over his head and blinking.  He looked around the empty room. That seemed strange. He was certain two people had died in this round already.

“ … Jack?”  Jeremy swung his legs out of the pod, frowning.  “Gavin?”

His gaze was snagged by a piece of paper taped to the edge of his pod.  Jeremy peeled the note off the smooth metal surface, sitting naked on the edge of his pod to read it.

_ Hey, Jer.   _

_ Me and Gavin stepped out.  We have our coms, call if you need company.  There’s tea and cookies on the shelf. Spill the tea on any equipment and I’ll throw you out of a plane.  Enjoy the rest of the game, honey. _

_ \- Jack _

Beneath Jack’s signature was a second one, in different writing, flanked by scribbled hearts.

_ … and Gavvy! _

Jeremy smiled and hopped out of his pod, bare feet landing on the cool smooth floor.  Sure enough, a plate of cookies and a steaming mug of tea sat on the shelf by the spare clothes.  Jeremy gave them a glance, but his gaze was quickly drawn to the screen that showed the ongoing footage of the game.  The match was still running, and he didn’t want to miss it.

… Was there really a reason to put on pants, with no one else in the room?

Jeremy bit his lip and sauntered over to the screen.  There was a dirty thrill to the amount of open air touching his skin.  Jeremy let out a breath as he leaned close to the screen, hands resting on the control panel.

“Which of you was it…?”  

The feed flipped between different views of the warehouse, following the tracks of the three remaining participants.  There was Ryan, dropping from a hole in the ceiling to the floor below. There was Michael, cracking open a box, slipping a gun part into his leather jacket.  There was Geoff, sliding around a corner cautiously, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. None of them seemed to have a spot of blood on them, but that didn’t mean a damn thing.

“Which of you fuckers got me, huh?” Jeremy whispered, as though they could hear him through the pixels.

Ryan’s familiar voice buzzed through the com.   _ “I just need a magazine and I’ve got a full gun.  Anyone got an extra?” _

Geoff snorted.  _  “Oh sure, let’s meet in some dark corner and I’ll hand it right over!  I’ll be safe with my buddy Ryan!” _

_ “Good point.  You might be the killer.  You’ve got that shifty Geoff voice.” _

Jeremy could see Michael creeping around a door.   _ “Ryan, I’ve only got one gun part, but I’m gonna be honest.  Even if I had a magazine, I wouldn’t throw it to you from a place of safety.  Fuck you.” _

_ “Jesus, Michael.  Little uncalled-for.” _

_ “Don’t think I trust you either, Geoff.  Ryan’s right, you’re being shifty.” _

_ “How am I being shifty?” _

Ryan ducked into a utility closet and leaned against a wall.  As he turned, as though listening for a sound, Jeremy caught sight of a dark smear on his cheek.

His heart skipped.  That… that  _ had  _ to be his own blood, smudged as though Ryan had tried to wipe it off. Tried to scrub Jeremy’s blood from his skin like a sloppy kiss. There was a calm smile on Ryan’s face as he flicked dirt out from underneath his fingernails.

_ “Remember, boys, I’m just one part away from a full gun.  Once I get it, I’m shooting, and you’ll look a whole lot more innocent if you give me a part.” _

Oh fuck, that was...that was  _ hot _ . Jeremy bit his lip, transfixed by the sight of Ryan waiting in the dusty old closet like an ambush predator.  A noise made Ryan go tense, made him reach into the pocket of his black and blue leather jacket for what must be...

“ … The knife,” Jeremy breathed.  The words slipped out without thought.  His breath hitched when he saw Ryan pull it out, blade still smeared with blood from slitting Jeremy’s throat.  “Oh fuck.”

On a different feed, Jeremy could see what Ryan had heard.  Michael was creeping down the hall, looking every bit the hunted prey, gaze darting between the shadows.  By the look on Ryan’s face, Jeremy knew he could hear Michael’s footsteps. His knife flicked in his gloved hand, as though twitchy,  _ thirsty.   _ As though the blade was eager to drink deep from another throat.

Around the corner came Michael, and Jeremy sucked in a breath as Ryan  _ lunged _ , seizing him by the front of his jacket, throwing him to the floor, straddling him, drawing the most beautiful  _ noise -- _

_ “Michael?” _  The camera flicked to Geoff as he froze, slowly lifting his hand to touch his com.   _ “…Holy shit, it’s Ryan, isn’t it?” _

Jeremy’s spine chilled at the smile on Ryan’s face.  He could see the blade dragging gently over Michael’s throat, Ryan’s other gloved hand keeping his newest victim pinned in place.

_ “Whoops.” _  Ryan didn’t sound worried. _  “I guess the secret’s out.” _

_ “What did you do with Michael, you bastard?” _

_ “Oh, he’s right here.” _  Ryan’s gloved thumb slid over Michael’s mouth, and Jeremy’s breath hitched.  _  “Say hi, Michael.” _

Michael’s throat bobbed against the knife.  _  “Geoff, I-I’m real sorry I didn’t trust you, buddy.  I feel pretty confident that you’re not the killer now.” _

_ “Find a gun quick, Geoff,” _ Ryan purred.  He dragged the knife down from Michael’s neck, teasing it across his collarbone.   _ “Maybe you can save your last remaining ally.” _

Jeremy’s breath was growing heavy.  Oh, fuck, he  _ liked _ that. The killer giving his victim an out, a little glimmer of hope… making someone else responsible for saving him…

Fuck, he was hard.

_ “Don’t worry, Geoff, I’ll keep him busy!”   _ Michael’s voice was wavering.   _ “Sick bastard can’t resist taking his time, find a gun and save yourself!” _

_ “How do you want me to do it, Michael?” _ Ryan whispered.  Jeremy could hear the arousal in his voice.  His knife trailed across Michael’s cheek, almost affectionate in its gentleness.   _ “I can carve you up nice… and slow…” _

Michael’s breath hitched when Ryan’s gloved hand wandered to his neck, gripping, pressing.   _ “Y-you sure you can hold yourself back for that long?  Premature slaughter happens to lots of psychopaths…” _ **  
**   
_ “Oh, we’re in no rush, sweetheart.  It’s been a while since I’ve been the killer.  I’ve been saving up ideas.” _

_ “Well then, if you’re all pent up, no one would be surprised if it was hard to p-perform -- ” _ Michael flinched as a bead of blood began to swell under the flash of the knife.   _ “G-Geoff, hurry!” _

_ “Mmm, not so concerned about my stamina now?” _

Jeremy could hear the  _ fear  _ pounding like a heartbeat behind Michael’s brave words, every taunt and jibe quaking.  Each little tremor in his voice -- each hungry exhale Ryan let out -- went right to Jeremy’s dick.  He shot a quick glance at the doorway, chewing his lip nervously. 

… Just a quick squeeze, just to satisfy the urge to  _ touch _ , and then he’d jerk off to this image later, when he was alone.  Jeremy’s hand slid to his dick, wrapping around it, almost buckling his knees with the first touch.

Not that he wasn’t alone now...

Ryan’s gloved hand slipped under Michael’s shirt, brushing it up, exposing an expanse of tantalizingly vulnerable skin.  Ryan took his time, his hand sliding over Michael’s body with obvious enjoyment. The knife wandered down, away from Michael’s freshly-sliced cheek, tickling along his chest.

_ “Keep listening, Geoff. _ ”  Ryan almost groaned the words.   _ “Michael’s about to make some lovely noises.” _

The knife  _ sliced,  _ a sudden bold brushstroke, opening up a crimson line across Michael’s chest.  Michael made a soft noise, so quiet Ryan might not’ve heard it if not for their coms. But he did, Jeremy could  _ tell _ that he did by the sudden shift in posture, the way he held himself a little straighter, breathed a little faster. Fuck, that was what Ryan was after. Those controlled little exhales as Michael fought not to show him just how much it hurt, how deeply he was feeling each careful slice --

Oh  _ god- _ Jeremy pressed a hand to the control panel, no longer trusting his legs to support his weight. His hand was moving between his legs, fast and hard, and fuck; Ryan must be hard right now, must be almost out of his mind with arousal and power, taking Michael apart slice by slice, with blood starting to trickle onto the floor -- 

Moaning words slipped out of Jeremy, as though Ryan could hear him.  “Oh god, keep going…”

Ryan was leaning over Michael now, faces so close they might’ve been about to kiss, but his knife hand moved between them instead, made some motion that Jeremy couldn’t quite see, and the next noise that Michael made was  _ louder _ , a gasp of pain that Ryan savored.

_ “That’s it, baby; go ahead and moan for me…” _

_ “Nh -- ”   _ Michael shifted under him.  _ “Y-you’re gonna h-have to work for it -- ” _

Ryan  _ growled _ , a deep, aggressive sound that made Jeremy’s breath hitch, and his next motion with the knife was a  _ push _ . Michael’s whole body stiffened in response, blade sliding into him slowly, carefully, like a considerate lover. And out again, dragging out inch by wet inch as Jeremy watched. The next stab was quick, brutal, driving the knife in to the hilt, and Michael  _ shouted _ , alarm and pain and losing control, and fuck,  _ fuck _ , that was what Ryan had been looking for. 

_ “Oh yeah, baby, just like that. Scream for me. Tell me how I’m doing.” _

Geoff’s voice was audibly shaken.   _ “H-hang in there, Michael, I’ve almost got a full gun!” _

_ “Mmh, don’t be jealous, Geoff.”   _ Ryan’s vicious grin twitched for a moment as the knife sliced, hard and quick.   _ “I’ll still have plenty of lovin’ for you when I’m done with Michael.” _

The brown leather of his jacket was staining darker where blood poured onto it.  Michael wasn’t talking now, was just  _ breathing _ , controlled, gasping breaths against the pain of the knife.  It was all he could manage.

Ryan traced a spiral just below the collarbone, shallow cut partially obscured by falling drops of blood.  _ “How much time do you think we have, really? Before Geoff can get that gun together? Enough to make you just the  _ prettiest _ corpse I’ll drop tonight?” _

_ “T-that’s... n-not too difficult… ”  _ Michael’s words were strained, weak with pain and blood loss. His eyes seemed unfocused behind his glasses.   _ “I- I already am -- ” _

_ “Mmm, not yet, baby.” _ Another  _ stab _ , right in the center of the spiral he’d drawn, like a bulls-eye.  _ “Not a corpse. Yet.” _

Jeremy whined.  It was too hot, too  _ fucking _ hot; he couldn’t believe Ryan was still  _ going _ .  When Geoff had told him to keep his kills clean, Jeremy didn’t realize  _ this  _ was the alternative.

Michael was making pretty little noises now, sweet notes of pain with each careful exhale. Eyes closed and body limp, riding the pain like a wave. Ryan glanced over his shoulder, checking behind them for rescuers. Then turned back, grinning down at Michael, fisting one hand in his hair. Smearing it with blood. 

_ “We’re pushing it now, darling.  It’s been lovely, but I still have one more guest waiting for me… ”  _

The knife touched skin, drawing across Michael’s neck in a slow, measured cut. Slitting him open.  Jeremy’s heart  _ jumped,  _ and he could hear Ryan groan, like he’d just climaxed to the wet sound of a knife sliding through flesh, to the last strangled sound that Michael made.

_ “ … And I want so badly to watch you die.” _

Ryan drank in the sight, knife lingering at the edge of the cut, hand in his hair holding Michael still, until… 

Stillness.  No breath in Michael’s chest, no sight in his eyes.  Ryan’s hands fell away, rapt attention gone. He stood and stepped off of Michael’s unmoving body without a backwards glance.  Jeremy could hear him humming to himself as he wiped off the knife on his jeans. 

_ “Oh Geoff… I think you may have just run out of time.” _

The hiss of an activating pod almost made Jeremy jump out of his skin.  He spun around in time to see Michael sitting up in a freshly-opened pod.

He’d somehow forgotten that Michael would end up  _ here  _ after dying.

Michael stretched, yawned, and caught sight of Jeremy.  His gaze ran down, from flushed face to hard dick.

“Aww, lil’ J.”  He snickered. “I’m flattered.”

“S-sorry,” Jeremy stammered.  It seemed pointless to try to hide his erection, so he just stood there like an idiot with his face turning red and his dick twitching.  “Uh — that was — uh —“

Michael was climbing calmly out of his pod, ruffling a hand through his fluff of hair.  Clean and soft, no blood in sight, not so much as a scar. He strode to the clothing shelves, as though he was used to reincarnating to the sight of an erection.

“That was really hot,” Jeremy blurted.

“You know…”  Michael spoke casually as he stepped into a pair of pants.  “I could tell you what it felt like. When he was killing me.”

“Y-you could -- ” Jeremy couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even  _ articulate _ how arousing that thought was.  “Fuck. Tell me.”

Michael tugged a shirt on.  “Did you know Ryan sharpens the game knives in his time off?  They slide right through skin like butter. Heh, guess you already know that, huh?”

Jeremy’s breath was growing heavy as Michael picked up a pair of glasses from the shelf and slid them on.  He ached to let his hand drift back to his dick, to keep jacking off even with Michael standing right there.

“Hot,” Michael continued.  His voice was lower. “The pain was hot, burning me up everywhere. And then cold, as my blood cooled on my skin. On the ground where I was laying. Soaked into my clothes, stealing my body heat. And as the blood loss compounded, and my body became colder and colder, it was like the lines drawn by his knife were the only warmth in the world. And I almost wanted more of them.” 

Jeremy’s breath hitched.  “Fuck- I- I want that-”

“Yeah?” Michael crossed the room towards Jeremy.  “That reminds me. We  _ really _ need to talk boundaries with you.”

“Boundaries?”

“Yeah. Good murder, bad murder. And also...other stuff. What kinds of  _ touch _ you want.” Michael’s hand hovered in front of him, so close to his face he could  _ feel _ it, the warmth of contact just out of reach. “Like, for example...whether you’d wanna mess around with someone whose death you’re not even finished jerking off to.”

“ _ Fuck _ , Michael-” Jeremy grabbed his hand, pressed it hard against his cheek. “T-touch me,  _ please- _ ”

That was all the invitation Michael needed. His hand moved, sliding around to cup the back of Jeremy’s head, and he crashed their lips together as a gunshot rang out behind them. Jeremy didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to stop, but he wanted to know --

“He missed,” Michael murmured against him, eyes flicking past Jeremy to watch the screens. “Geoff missed.”

Jeremy groaned.  “He’s  _ fucked. _ ”

“Sure is.  Wanna watch another murder?”

God, he did, he  _ needed  _ it.  Jeremy twisted himself away from Michael’s lips so he could stare at the screen.  Ryan’s gloved hand was locked around Geoff’s throat, keeping him pinned against a wall, bloody knife dangling in his other hand, hungry grin on his face.  His voice dripped with false sympathy. 

_ “Awww, Geoff… don’t tell me that was your only bullet.” _

_ “Shit shit shit shit…”   _ Geoff was visibly shaking in Ryan’s grip.   _ “O-oh god, please don’t kill me like you killed Michael…” _

_ Like you killed Michael.  _ The words hit Jeremy like a punch to the gut. He groaned helplessly, pressing harder against Michael’s solid, unharmed body. 

“Ryan’s gonna slit him nice and slow,” Michael whispered in his ear.  “Slower, now that he’s warmed up. Knows no one’s gonna interrupt them. Gonna drip my blood all over him.”

“Fucking- do you  _ realize _ how hot you’re being?”

“Mmm.” Michael’s hands were moving down his body, finding his hips. Pulling Jeremy in to grind hard against him. “As hot as I was when I was dying?”

“I- I don’t -- I don’t know if you  _ could _ be -- ”

“Oh really?” Michael smirked and dropped to his knees.  “Let me try.”

For a moment, the view between Jeremy’s legs was better than the view on the screen.  Michael’s hands were on Jeremy’s bare hips, his cocky fucking smile just an inch from Jeremy’s dick.

“Keep watching the screen,” Michael coaxed.  Then he slid his mouth over Jeremy and swallowed him down into his un-slit throat.

“ _ Ah --   _ ”

Jeremy groped frantically, found the edge of the control panel and leaned hard against it, letting it support him as Michael’s head bobbed.  Warm wet sweet suction, absolute pleasure wrapped around him. Onscreen, Geoff cried out, sound clean and clear through the speakers. Ryan laughed coldly in response, pure megalomania that made Jeremy’s hips twitch, a harsh thrust into Michael’s mouth.  And Michael  _ let _ him. Didn’t resist for the first few strong, frantic pumps, before holding Jeremy’s hips firmly in place so he could pull off.

“Think I can get more pretty noises out of you than Ryan can out of Geoff?”

“ _ Nnnh- _ t-that’s-”

“Nice.” Michael grinned at him, Jeremy’s cock just a hairsbreadth from his lips. “Think I just got one.”

Jeremy couldn’t think of a smart retort. And, fuck; did he really  _ need _ one? The rules had to be different, right? Between blowjobs and murder?

Then Michael’s mouth was on him again, and his head fell back, a moan punched helplessly out of him, and he could feel Michael trying not to smile. The hand on his left hip curled into a fist, index finger extended.

Keeping count of the pretty noises he made.

_ “Please-!” _ Geoff was begging, now, whatever Ryan was doing to him stripping away his composure like tissue paper.  _ “J-just slit me-” _

_ “Oh, you deserve a little more attention than that, after how hard you worked for that gun.” _

_ “R-Ryan-!” _

_ “Pity your only bullet is in the wall over there.” _

The  _ noise _ those words dragged out Jeremy had Michael raising another finger. Oh fuck, Geoff was  _ alone _ . Completely alone. Defenseless. Trapped under a killer who  _ knew _ he could take his time. 

_ “P-please, l-let me do something else. Let me b-blow you. Or rim you. S-sit on my face, or- fuck- you can f-fuck me-” _

Those filthy, desperate words had Jeremy’s hips pushing forward, pleasure burning him up inside. And the anticipation of Ryan’s answer- fuck; he was throbbing. Michael raised a third finger, pressing his count against Jeremy’s skin.

_ “Is that how easy you are, Geoff?  A little bleeding and you’re begging to get fucked?  Mmh. Tempting.”  _ The consideration was playful. Mocking. Punctuated by a wet slice and another pained shout. _ “But I have other ways of making you scream.” _

_ “You c-could watch me bleed out! You’ve done that before, to- to Jack! J-just, n-no more-” _

_ “Well, see…”  _ And Geoff screamed, long and loud, Ryan waiting patiently before continuing his sentence.  _ “I’ve already done that, right? Variety is the spice of murder.” _

_ “Oh god, please…” _

_ “You’re going to die, Geoff.  You’re going to die just the way I want you to.” _

Each scream and whimper made Jeremy throb in Michael’s mouth, and the desperate “ _ fuck”  _ that slipped out of him made Michael raise a fourth finger.  A strange new hunger was thumping through his veins, something just as powerful the urge to grab Michael’s hair and come down his throat.  It was a desire to get back into the arena. To play the game again. To immerse himself in the hunt, the danger, the kill. He was jealous of Ryan, and, fuck… he was jealous of  _ Geoff. _

He needed to play the game again as badly as he needed to --

“Ahhh --!”  Jeremy’s hips bucked as he came.  Michael’s hands stayed firm on his hips, his whole hand slayed proudly across Jeremy’s skin to document Jeremy’s cries.  “Oh fuck, M-Michael-  _ Ohhh- Nnnh- _ Oh,  _ god… _ ”

Jeremy was still throbbing as Michael’s mouth slid off him.  The milky drop on Michael’s chin did nothing to detract from his smug grin.

“Nice.  Totally worth dying for that.”

The sound of  _ applause  _ made Jeremy’s whole body jerk, his gaze snap up to find the source of the noise.  Fuck, Michael’s hands were still on his hips; who-

Geoff leaned against an open pod, naked and unharmed and clapping and- oh, he shouldn’t have looked- more than a little hard.  Jeremy’s face was heating. Fuck, when had Geoff died? He hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t even had his eyes open-

“I’m guessing you liked the show, then?” Geoff’s smile was warm. Pleased. Not mocking.  No trace of the panic that had been in his voice when Ryan had him at knifepoint.

“Fuck yeah he liked it.” Michael kept his hands on Jeremy as he stood, a comforting touch to keep him grounded. “I stepped out of my pod and lil’ J here was jerking it to my bloodied corpse.”

A chuckle from the screen behind Jeremy made him jump.

_ “Always a pleasure when I get to satisfy an audience.”  _  Ryan was looking directly into the camera, grinning proudly as though he could see Jeremy.  He wiped the knife off on his jeans, just like he did after killing Michael.  _ “Thanks for unmuting the respawn room, Geoff.  That was a better finale than I could have given.” _

Geoff sighed and flicked his hand at Jeremy.  “As hot as this is, you’d better get your bare ass off my equipment or Jack will skin you alive. Up!” 

Jeremy slid slowly off the control panel, uncertain at first if his legs could even take his weight. Michael’s arm slid around his waist as though he  _ knew,  _ steadying him, keeping him on his feet. 

“Geoff, you mind if we wrap up here?” Michael pressed.  “There’s a conversation that we  _ really _ need to have with Jeremy, before we find his boundaries by tripping over them.”

Jeremy frowned.  The hunger to play hadn’t faded when he’d gotten off, and the idea of turning in for the night left him restless.  

Geoff frowned right back at him.  “Don’t you give me that look, Jeremy Dooley.  We gave you a few rounds so you could get a sense of the game, but Michael’s right.  You’re not setting foot in that warehouse again until we know your boundaries.”

\----

Boundaries, it seemed, was a discussion for the lounge.

Jeremy sat on an impossibly comfortable couch with Ryan’s hand on his knee, surrounded by the crew.  It was odd to be gathered with no drinks between them, no knives, and no blueprints for a heist. Just the six of them and a few comfortable seats.  Jeremy was tense, uncertain...but the couch made it hard to hold his body rigidly. It curved at a gentle angle, inviting cushions coaxing him to sink back, settle his head on Ryan’s shoulder.

It was hard to be anxious when you were so damn  _ comfortable _ . 

“Okay, I’ll go first!”  Geoff announced happily. And just like that, they were off. 

No facial mutilation.

No severing digits.

No paralyzing or disabling injuries. No cutting the spinal cord. No slicing up up feet. 

“Don’t…like...show me my organs. That’s gross.”

“Leave my sex bits alone, thanks. Unless you’re using them for their intended purpose, that is.”

“Blood is not lube. Okay, Jeremy? I don’t care what porn has told you; blood  _ is not  _ lube!”

Each violent new suggestion made Jeremy sit up a little straighter, made his eyes a little wider.  Eventually, he realized that they’d come full circle. With everyone’s boundaries established, all gazes were on him. 

“What about you, Jeremy?”  Geoff was leaning on his knees, tattooed elbows on his dress pants.  “What don’t you want us to do to you? What are  _ your _ boundaries?  Remember, you can set new boundaries at any time, even in the middle of a game.”

Jeremy glanced around the room, head still reeling from the onslaught of violent imagery he’d just been given.  When Michael had said “don’t show me my organs,” no one else had chimed in. The silence hung in the air, a silent  _ permission.   _ That couldn’t really mean… 

… Holy fuck, the Fakes must have been holding back with him before, like big dogs batting around a puppy without using their real strength.  Some of the things they’d mentioned never would’ve even  _ occurred _ to Jeremy.  Was that how they played with each other, when they weren’t playing nice with the newbie?  

… What would the Crew do to him with no rules?  All Jeremy knew was that he felt a powerful, adrenaline-seeking urge to find out.

Jeremy gave the room a wide grin and leaned back on the couch. “No boundaries.”  His heart was pounding even as he said the words, but the look of shock on all five faces was too satisfying.  “I trust you all. Don’t hold back.” 

For a moment, no one spoke.  At last, Geoff gave him a smile.

“ … You heard him, crew.”  He clapped his hands and stood up.  “The next game is gonna be a good one!”

\----

Jeremy wasn’t there for the second meeting that night.

Geoff shut the door to the meeting room, then latched it.  He turned around with a sigh. Four of his crew members — with one Jeremy Dooley notably absent — sat or stood around the table, all looking at him expectantly.  Geoff leaned against the closed door and crossed his tattooed arms. 

“Okay, crew, let’s talk about Jeremy.  I know we all love him, but he’s a ballsy idiot.”

The remark was met by nods and grunts of agreement.

Jack raised her hand.  “We’re not  _ actually  _ operating with no boundaries around him, right?”

“We sure as shit aren’t.”  Geoff stepped forward and leaned on the table.  “So here’s what I need you all to do: We’re gonna play another round of Murder, and this time we’re gonna up the calibration a bit.  Whoever the killer is next round, I want you to… hm, how do I put this… ”

Geoff trailed off, searching the ceiling for words.

“Fuck him up?” Michael provided hopefully.

“ … Just put a little fear of god in him,” Geoff finished.  “Give him a taste of how the Fakes  _ really  _ play.”  

The room exchanged excited glances.  Ryan bit his lip, and Jack’s breath audibly hitched.

“ _ Gently, _ ” Geoff added firmly.  “We just want Jeremy to realize that he has to set boundaries, that’s all.  Use your…”

Geoff looked around at his crew, from one face to the next.  He sighed.

“ … best judgement,” he ground out slowly.  “Look, don’t be too rough, just put him in his place.  We’ve all been going easy on him, it’s time he was shown that.”

“Will do, boss,” promised Gavin, not even trying to hide his giddy smile.

Ryan let out a hungry breath.  “I  _ really  _ hope I’m the killer next round.”

“And if  _ Jeremy’s _ the killer next round?” Michael pressed.

Geoff indulged in a half-smile.  “Well… he can’t be the killer  _ every  _ time.”


	3. Level Up

The morning was gray.  Jeremy sat on a broken chunk of concrete and stared up at the dim sky, fingers drumming tensely against the empty metal box in his hands.  It was quiet out here, too far from civilization for the rumble of cars, too manmade for wildlife to take hold. Jeremy’s own breath felt uncomfortably loud in his ears.  Calm before the storm.

In less than a minute, he was going to walk into the warehouse that loomed behind him, and he would probably never walk back out.  He still wasn’t used to this part of the game, the waiting, the last few seconds of safety before the hunt started. He wasn’t used to any of it, really, not the hunt or the kill, each moment of each game hitting him like a round of shots.  

The dying… that might be the one part he was getting used to.  Jeremy knew he might not leave this warehouse breathing, and the thought didn’t paralyze him like it once would have.  Dying, Jeremy was proud to say, was no big deal. Not to a Fake. 

Jack’s voice in the com startled him, bringing him back to the present.

_ “Okay, we’re all dropped, chopper is parked.  Game on! Let’s play Murder, boys!” _

Jeremy let out a long breath and stood.  He left his empty box on the ground beside the concrete slab as he walked into the warehouse.  No knife and no gun for Jeremy Dooley this round. It was strange, the relief he felt when he saw his box was empty.  Things were simple this way. Either he would elude the killer or he would die, and the warm safety of the respawn room was always waiting for him if he failed.  

Jack had dropped him off at a different entry point this time, and the room Jeremy stepped into was unfamiliar.  Until he learned the ins and outs of this map, he knew he’d be at a disadvantage here. Jeremy looked around cautiously as he stepped between ancient stacks of boxes, each forward movement slow and deliberate. Look for gun parts.  Don’t die. Play the game called Murder. 

_ “Good morning, Fake AH Crew, this is Geoff Ramsay with a motherfucking gun ready to blast the first person who gets within ten feet of me.” _

_ “Hey, guys, I think Geoff is starting with the gun this round.” _

_ “Nice, so who started with the knife?  Come on, now’s a great time to come clean.” _

The gun must be even more pressure than the knife was, Jeremy thought.  Being the killer had been stressful, but to be the one in charge of protecting everyone else… to have your own cards laid on the table, and not know where anyone else stood…

Jeremy wondered if there was a viable bystander strategy that  _ didn’t _ involve a mad scramble to arm oneself. The warehouse was full of dark corners, piles of rubble, old supply closets -- all hiding places that seemed to sing of safety.  The killer couldn’t hurt him if they couldn’t find him. If he lay low long enough, the killer might be taken out without Jeremy ever needing to cross their path. But if no one shot the killer... if they just picked off every bystander one by one… then Jeremy would be a sitting duck after his allies were systematically slaughtered.  

The next room contained a low table, and Jeremy hesitated in front of it.  There might be enough space to crawl under it, and possibly remain unseen. Which was less frightening: to be exposed but mobile, or hidden but cornered?  Both options made Jeremy’s heart race. With a soft curse, he moved on from the table. If he was going to hide, it had better be a damn good spot.

In the back of his mind, he suspected there was a reason that the Fakes chose to move rather than hide, but it was worth a try.  And if it worked, then tonight was going to be pretty calm. 

As much as a game called ‘Murder’ ever could be.

Gavin squealed over the com, and Jeremy almost jumped out of his shoes.  

“ _ AAAH, Michael!  Don’t bloody jump out at me like that!” _

_ “Calm the fuck down, Gavin, I’m just trying to get past you.” _

_ “Michael’s lookin’ shady, guys!” _

_ “And Gavin’s looking paranoid. Anyone found any boxes yet?” _

_ “I did!” _

_ “Me too!” _

_ “Fuck all you guys; I’ve got nothing.” _

Jeremy let the voices of his teammates wash over him. He grinned at Gavin’s indignance, but didn’t add to the conversation. Maybe that was part of his strategy, too. Go silent, and let them assume he wasn’t a problem anymore. 

Gavin screamed over the com, again, and this time it made Jeremy’s spine prickle.

_ “Aaaah!” _

_ “Gavin either found a body or he’s jacking off,”  _ announced Geoff.

_ “Jack’s dead!”  _ Gavin’s voice was high and terrified, more so than a simple body find should’ve elicited.   _ “H-holy shit someone made a real mess of her — She’s not breathing -- ” _

_ “What?  Not breathing?” _  Michael’s voice oozed sarcasm.   _ “The dead person isn’t breathing?” _

_ “Y-yeah, but she’s- fuck -- no pulse, she’s really -- y-you need to come see this -- ” _

_ “Hang on, I think I’m still near you.  I hear bitchy British noises in the distance.” _

_ “This way, boy!” _

_ “Holy fucking shit, Gavin, did you kill her?  You look like you fucking swam in her blood!” _

_ “Well, I had to check for a pulse, right?” _

_ “You really didn’t!  Ugh, what am I saying, you’re exactly dumb enough to fondle a corpse and get yourself slathered in blood.” _

_ “Unless that’s what I want you to think!  Ah shit, that would have been clever. Should have saved it.” _

_ “Shut the fuck up and show me the body, you idiot.” _

There was a pause. When Michael spoke again, his voice was grim. 

_ “Oh yeah, Jack is dead as shit.  We’re dealing with a sick son of a bitch this round, guys.  Motherfucker had fun with it.” _

Jeremy frowned, silence already forgotten.  “It’s Ryan.”

_ “It’s definitely Ryan,”  _ agreed Geoff.

_ “What?  It’s not me!  Fun kills are for the late game, not the first strike.” _

_ “Okay, Gavin and I are splitting up again,”  _ Michael announced. _  “Best guess at this point, nobody turn your back on Ryan.  Which is good advice in general, honestly.” _

_ “It’s not me!  I think it’s Michael!”   _ He could hear the mistrust in Ryan’s voice. _  “Sounds like you were awfully close to the corpse when Gavin found it!” _

_ “It wasn’t me, and anyone who shoots me is gonna regret it.” _

_ “It could’ve been Gavin!”  _ Geoff added.   _ “He’s the one who found the body!” _

“You think he’d call in his own kill?” Jeremy spoke softly, each word careful and deliberate. No unnecessary noises. “Gavin’s got the exact opposite of a poker face, I can’t imagine that would work well for him.”

Michael laughed.  _ “Yeah, you can say that again. Boy practically leaves bloody footprints.” _

Silence. 

_ “Got nothing to say to that, Gavin?” _

Jeremy waited, two fingers pressing his com closer against his ear. Listening for an indignant voice telling them all to go screw themselves. The silence stretched on, and the next voice to break it was Michael’s.

_ “ … Gavin?” _

Shit. Shit.  Jeremy clenched his teeth, walking faster.  He hated this part of the game, when voices started going silent, the killer slowly slicing holes in their communication.  He tried not to linger on the silence, the absence of Gavin’s voice. They wouldn’t know for sure until they found a...

… a body… 

Jeremy froze.  He could see a glint of something wet through a doorway.  A dark, crimson puddle of blood was spreading, oozing from a source around the corner.

… Oh no.

“G-guys?”  Jeremy’s stomach twisted as he crept closer to the door.  “I-I might have some bad news…”

He peered into the room.  A body lay in the center of the pool of blood, so torn up that for a moment he couldn’t tell who it was.  Jeremy pressed a hand over his mouth, the color draining from his face as he stepped back. Fuck. He hadn’t thought it would be like this. He’d imagined failure would be a neat slice across his throat, clean and quick, sending him to the respawn pod within seconds.  Was this what Jack had looked like? Was this what waited for him if he couldn’t find a gun?

Fuck fuck fuck, he couldn’t just hide under a table and wait for  _ that  _ to happen to him --

Jeremy’s hazy vision settled on a limp, blood-splattered arm, covered wrist to elbow in tattoos.  Not Gavin. Geoff. Three silenced voices.

_ “ … Jeremy?”   _ Michael’s voice sounded weak.  _  “You alive?  Oh god, who’s left?” _

"I-I’m alive.”  Jeremy could barely choke out words.  “I -- I found Geoff. I -- fuck -- someone took their time with him.” 

_ “Oh shit…” _

Geoff’s body was slashed to ribbons, so many cuts that some of them were undoubtedly obscured by the blood.  Jeremy wanted to look away, to leave the corpse, but his legs wouldn’t move. Something caught his eye, something that wasn’t a bloody wound.  In the palm of Geoff’s limp hand lay the gun.

Jeremy’s breath hitched. A whole gun, already assembled and functional. The best chance anyone could’ve had at surviving the night. And it was his.

Jeremy stepped back, gaze darting around the shadowy room.  Not a sound in the darkness. He turned back to Geoff’s body, then leaned down and reached for the gun, every muscle tense.  Painfully aware that this could be a trap, could be  _ bait _ , with the murderer keeping watch from around some darkened corner, waiting to slit the unfortunate bystander who thought they could arm themselves so easily.

His fingers closed around the handle. He straightened up, neck intact. Safe.  He checked the gun, his heart pounding as he realized it was loaded. Geoff had never fired it. 

“M-Michael?”  Jeremy’s voice cracked over the com.  “You still alive?”

_ “I’m alive…” _

“Ryan?”

_ “Alive and petrified.” _

Jeremy licked his dry lips.  He clasped his hand around the gun, finger resting on the trigger.  “O-okay, that’s great, but the thing is — one of you is the killer.”

_ “What?” _

_ “Or it could be you!” _

“It’s not me, I’ve got the gun.”  Jeremy whipped around a corner, gun held out ahead of him.  “And right now there’s a fifty-fifty chance of me shooting the right person if I gun down the next man to cross my sights.”

_ “Wh-whoa, let’s not be hasty —“ _

“Ryan. I don’t know if you’ve seen the bodies, but trust me.  If you’re not the killer, you’re better off taking a bullet to the head.”

He crept through the warehouse slowly, careful to sweep each new corner and room, ready to fire at any moment.  So much for this round being simple. He’d picked up the fallen responsibility from Geoff’s bloody hand, and now it wobbled in his grip as he pointed it down each hall he entered.

Jeremy rounded a corner, and the next room wasn’t empty.  The barrel of his gun almost bumped Michael’s nose before both men jolted back from each other, Michael’s hands shooting up in surrender.

“Wh-whoa whoa whoa, you can stay  _ right  _ the fuck where you are!” Jeremy spilled out, keeping his shaking gun trained on Michael’s head.

“ … Hey, Ryan?” Michael said into his com nervously.  His hands remained raised. “Jeremy’s legit. He’s got a gun out.”  He let out a sigh. “ … Which I guess means you’re the killer, huh Ryan?”

_ “I’m not the killer!” _

Jeremy struggled to keep his breath steady.  Fuck fuck this was more terrifying than being caught and killed had been.  He didn’t know if he was pointing his gun at the right man,  _ he didn’t know. _

“F-first of all, stay the fuck back,” Jeremy snapped.  “If you’re the killer, I’m not letting you get within stab range of me.”

“And if you’re wrong — which you are — then you’ll be alone with Ryan if you shoot me,” Michael countered.  “You know me, I kill quick. Ryan doesn’t. Which of us do you want in your endgame, huh?”

Jeremy’s stomach flipped.  He almost didn’t want to point it out, but the words were pulled out of him as though by a rough hand.  “ … C-come on, Michael, does anyone kill quick once there’s only one victim left?”

“Fair enough, but lemme tell you, Jack’s body sure as shit looked like Ryan’s handiwork.  I bet Geoff’s did too, didn’t it?”

The memory of the corpse flashed through Jeremy’s mind, all carved up like a Christmas ham.  He couldn’t find the words to deny Michael’s claim. Ryan liked a good slow slicing.

Something didn’t click, though.  Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t put his finger on it…

“And Gavin is probably a bloody mess too — assuming Ryan isn’t currently  _ fucking his corpse,”  _ Michael snarled into his mic.

_ “Hey, you can take your necrophiliac accusations and shove them up your ass, Michael!” _

“Look, Jeremy… you’ve got the gun, so you’re the only safe one here.”  Michael took a step closer, his hands still up. “I just wanna stick by you.  I’ll stay out of your way while you kill Ryan. Ten feet back, I promise.”

Jeremy let out a thin whine.  He took another step back, breathing hard.  “ … R-Ryan?”

_ “Jeremy, it’s not me, which means it’s Michael!  Don’t fucking turn your back on him!” _

Shoot, or don’t shoot.  Shoot, or don’t shoot. Jeremy’s gun wobbled in his hand.  

The gun…

… The gun that Geoff had never fired.

Jeremy’s breath halted.  Geoff had never fired his gun, even though it was still in his hand when he died.  The very first slice must have been what killed him, which meant the rest of the wounds had been post-mortem.  And Ryan… Ryan only carved up living bodies. Ryan would never linger around a corpse when he could be moving on to the next frightened victim.

Jeremy swallowed.  The gun steadied in his hand, the wobble suddenly gone.

“Sorry, Michael.”

He fired.

The change was instantaneous. Michael was there one second and gone the next, body crumpling with no one left inside to hold it up. Back at headquarters a new pod was sliding open, like the force of the bullet had thrown Michael straight through the wall, all the way back to the respawn room.

But this  _ view _ ...without knowing what the Fakes could do, it would look to anyone like Jeremy had just shot his friend in cold blood.

The now-empty gun slipped from Jeremy’s shaking hands and hit the floor.  The  _ rush  _ was buzzing through his veins, a kind of high he couldn’t get from anywhere else.  Jeremy took a few deep breaths as his heart thumped like a war drum in his chest.

He had to clear his head.  If he had fucked up, the round wasn’t over yet.  If he had fucked up, Ryan was already coming for him.

It was definitely Michael.  Definitely Michael. It couldn’t be Ryan, so it had to be Michael.  Jeremy dropped to his knees over Michael’s still-warm body. He just had to find the knife to prove that he had won, to settle the game.

To walk out of this warehouse breathing...

Jeremy’s hands fumbled with Michael’s trademark leather jacket as he checked the pocket.  Nothing. His hand shoved into the other pocket. Nothing.  A chill seeped through Jeremy’s chest, the first traces of doubt, sick and poisonous under his skin. He shoved Michael’s jacket aside and began to dig through his pants pockets.

“Come on come on come on…”  Jeremy’s jaw clenched tighter with each empty pocket.  “Where’s the knife,  _ where’s the knife…” _

The chill was spreading up Jeremy’s spine like a creeping frost.  His shaking hands drifted away from the body. There was no knife.  The pool of blood was spreading, and there was no knife in Michael’s pockets.

_ “ … Jeremy?”   _ Ryan’s voice was thin over the com. _  “Oh shit… M-Michael?  Who’s left?” _

“Ryan —“  Jeremy’s voice cracked and he rubbed a hand over his mouth.  “R-Ryan, it… it wasn’t him…”

The com beeped, a noise Jeremy hadn’t heard it make before.

_ “Woooo, this is ghost Michael.  It wasn’t me, dipshit.” _

With another strange beep, the com went silent.

Jeremy sat down hard on the concrete floor.  His head was spinning. “N-no way… j-jesus, Ryan, I can’t believe it was you -- fucking p-post-mortem cuts -- ”

_ “It’s not me!  But it can’t be you, you had the gun -- Jeremy, you know not to use a gun if you’re the killer, right?” _

“Of course I know that, it’s not me!”

_ “But it’s not me either!  Who the hell is it?” _

A third voice suddenly crackled over the com, familiar laughter in Jeremy’s ear.

_ “Oh man.  You guys can’t bloody count.  There were six of us and only three died!” _

“What…” Jeremy pressed his com closer against his ear. “Gavin?”

_ “Gavin, you bastard!” _

_ “Aww, Ryan! Did I catch’ya off guard? I’ve gotta say; I didn’t think it would actually work! But I guess nobody sees what they don’t expect to see. Who was it who said I leave bloody footprints?” _

Jeremy’s gaze drifted to the body on the floor. “M-Michael.”

_ “Hah! Funny, that; I actually did!  Little surprised no one followed them...” _

Of course. Pieces were falling into place in Jeremy’s numb brain. Gavin announcing over the com that Jack had no pulse. To give himself a plausible reason to have  _ touched _ her...drawing whoever was nearby with his feigned panic, to cast suspicion onto someone else...

_ “Oh, Jeremy… I haven’t heard a lil’ jingle yet.  Are you forgetting something?” _

“A…a little…?” Jeremy’s thoughts were slow, coming to him through a haze of icy terror. Fuck fuck fuck, Gavin was the killer, and he’d thrown away his best chance at getting out of this alive… by shooting… the wrong man…

_ “Handcuffs, mate.  Get yourself all chained up for me, there’s a good boy.” _

“Oh…”  The full weight on what he’d done hit him like a blow to the chest.  “F-fuck.”

Jeremy’s legs wobbled as he stood.  He slipped the cuffs from his belt and twisted his arms awkwardly behind his back. The cuffs snapped shut easily when he applied pressure, metal sliding over metal with well-practiced ease. Leaving him exposed and defenseless. Naked in a way that went beyond skin deep. He shivered. Gavin could have his body, could have his  _ life _ , and there was nothing he’d be able to do to stop him.

_ “On your knees, if you please.” _

He dropped without thinking, slumping to the dusty floor. It felt like surrender. “I-is that part of the rules?”

_ “Mmm….no.” _ He could hear the smile in Gavin’s voice. _ “But it might make me kill you quicker.” _

_ Kill you quicker.  _  The words rang in Jeremy’s ears.  He’d died with the Fake AH crew before. Fuck; he’d died in this very warehouse before. But death had always come suddenly; a quick surprise, like tripping and falling, landing soft and secure inside a respawn pod. But this…this  _ awareness _ that Death was coming for him… fuck, it felt…

_ “Jeremy?” _ That was Ryan’s voice, breathless and frightened, but real.  _ “Don’t let him psych you out. We’re not dead yet.” _

_ “Ooh, your boyfriend’s an optimist! We’ll see how optimistic he sounds when he’s pinned under me, pliant and bleeding -- GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT; I’M GONNA MAKE HIM LISTEN WHILE I -- ” _

The com was overwhelmed with gasps and clatters, buzzing in Jeremy’s ear like a dropped phone.  Jeremy scrambled to his feet, forgetting for a moment that his hands were cuffed and almost losing balance.

“Ryan?   _ Ryan _ !”

Jeremy’s heart thumped in his throat.   _ Make him listen while…   _ He didn’t need Gavin to finish the sentence.  Every plea, every scream, every bloody slice would be picked up by the mic.  He was going to  _ hear  _ Ryan die.  If Ryan died, there would be no one left with free hands to fire a gun.  

A cold wash of terror trickled down Jeremy’s spine as he heard a whimper, then a purr through the com.

_ “Easy does it, let’s all settle down here.  Mmmh, fear’s a good look on you, Ryan… Hey, Jeremy, think I should fuck him? That’s what you would do, right?” _

Jeremy’s breath was starting to race.   _ Make him listen while…  _ oh no.  Gavin wasn’t just going to  _ kill _ Ryan. 

_ “Jeremy —“ _  Ryan’s voice was strained.   _ “You’ve still got the gun, right?” _

It was hard to focus on Ryan’s voice with the word  _ fuck  _ throbbing in his head and groin.  Jeremy’s gaze dropped and eventually focused on the gun.  “Y-yeah, but the only bullet is in Michael’s skull…”

As though reminded, his gaze drifted back to the corpse.  The blood had stopped spreading, leaving a thick dark pool that soaked into the cracks in the concrete.  Jeremy’s hands clenched and unclenched in his cuffs. He felt dizzy.

He was helpless, and Ryan was caught.  This was what checkmate looked like. Game over.

_ “Jeremy, don’t you fucking give up on me!”  _ Ryan snarled, as though reading his thoughts.   _ “There’s more bullets hidden on the map, look for boxes!” _

Jeremy twisted his wrists against the harsh metal grip of the cuffs.  “What good does a bullet do me? Choke on it before Gavin slits me?”

_ “Steady on!  S’my job to kill you, I earned it fair and square!” _

_ “Your cuffs are — nnh —“   _ Ryan made a thin, tortured noise, something that could have been pleasure or pain.   _ “Y-you’ll get to take them off!!”  _

It took a moment for the words to register.  Jeremy’s arms tensed against the cuffs, the haze of surrender starting to fall from his mind.  “ … What?”

_ “Th-the person you shot gets to decide how long you wear them.  Michael should -- nnh fuck -- let you know when your time is up.  They all have safety switches on them.” _

… Not checkmate.  No game over. Jeremy’s dizzy vision was clearing, the world suddenly needle sharp around him.  Fuck. He had to get moving.

_ “Find a bullet and shoot this fucker before he gets — a-ahh — b-bored —“ _

Jeremy took a deep breath.  He knelt down over the gun and leaned back awkwardly until his cuffed hands could pick it up, slip it in the back of his pants as he stood.  With one last glance at Michael’s body, he marched out of the room. “So I can use the gun twice?”

_ “As many times as you find b-bullets for, as long as you aim it at the k- aah!” _

_ “Where should I do him, hm?”  _ Gavin’s voice slotted neatly into Ryan’s breathless silence.  _  “Mouth looks awfully tempting, and oooh Jeremy you’d get such a good show… mic really picks up those sloppy blowie noises.  Whatcha think?” _

It was hard to keep his breath even, to focus on the dark nooks and crannies where a box might be stashed.  Fuck. Fuck. He had a job to do, but Gavin’s words brought up vivid memories. Memories of Ryan’s breath strangled by Jeremy’s fingers, trembling body pressed against his, bending over to let Jeremy  _ take  _ him with a knife at his throat...

_ “C’mon, mate, you pick.  It’s your boyfriend I’m about to shag, after all, only fair.  How’s the best way to do ‘im?” _

Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard.  He knew what he had to say, but the words stumbled on his tongue, barely a breath in his mic.  “ … F-fuck his ass.”

_ “Sorry, little louder _ ?”

Jeremy whined, his face heating.  “F-fuck his ass!”

_ “What —“ _  Jeremy could hear a thump as Ryan struggled.   _ “W-why would you fucking pick that — ” _

“Ryan, listen,” Jeremy interrupted quickly, “you know this game better than me and I need to be able to communicate with you.  I can’t do that if you’re gagging on a dick.”

Gavin snorted.   _ “Come off it, you think you can still win this?” _

_ “That’s true, Gavin is real dumb — aaah!” _

“Stay with me, Ryan!”  Jeremy didn’t bother to stay quiet as he ran to the next room.  The time for stealth was long gone. “Boxes, right? Okay. I can do that.”

_ “Nnnh-- t-that’s my boy -- ” _

“I don’t see any in this room. Where--?”

_ “Ah, fuck! N-not so deep-” _

Jeremy’s breath hitched.  Cock or a knife, it was hard to tell what Ryan was being penetrated by.  “Ryan! What’s happening?”

_ “Oh, g-god, Jeremy- t-take the long h-hallway, along the edge of the map- oh fuck, Gavin-!” _

“Okay, long hallway. I hear you, Ryan. Keep talking.”

_ “A-ah- I c-can’t-” _

“End of the hallway.”  Jeremy caught his breath, his gaze darting down the two forks.  “Left or right?”

Ryan whimpered softly, broken sound barely picked up by his mic.  Jeremy bit his lip, his knees wobbling. 

“L-left or right, Ryan!”

Gavin’s voice responded.   _“Oh, I’m so_ _sorry_ , _Jeremy! Ryan’s got… BIGGER things to worry about right now.”_

_ “Y-you wish —“ _

_ “What was that, you little prick?” _

_ “Nnh, g-go right!” _

Each footfall was jarringly loud in the echoing hall as Jeremy raced down it.  He didn’t need any further directions. He could see a dark, square shape sitting in the corner of the hall.  As he got closer, he slowed to a stop, cursing under his breath. The lid was open, the precious contents already pilfered.

“Shit.  Empty.” Jeremy caught his breath.  “I need a new location, Ryan.”

_ “Ah -- oh god oh god I can’t -- f-fucking Gavin’s gonna make me -- nnh --” _

“Ryan —“  Jeremy’s breath hitched at the moans he could hear.  “R-Ryan, I know this is hard, but I need you to not jizz until you tell me where the next box is!”

_ “I -- f-fuck  _ \--”  Words spilled out of Ryan like a broken dam.   _ “Office space in the back, hidden cellar, second floor up the rusted ladder, top of the shelves in main storage, back corner of that room with all thhhh — oooh god —“ _

“Slow down, I can’t remember all that!”

_ “You’re gonna have to, I don’t think I’ll live long after Gavin — ah —“   _ Ryan’s voice cracked. _ “ — after he c-comes in me — oh god —“ _

Jeremy’s steps slowed and faltered to a stop.  His face was growing hot as Ryan’s cries got louder and louder.  There was no way to focus, to move his feet, with that noise in his ears.  He knew what it sounded like when Ryan was coming. 

_ “Oh… sloppy boy.”   _ The smugness in Gavin’s voice made Jeremy’s spine prickle.   _ “Gonna make a worse mess of you than that before we’re done.” _

Jeremy’s dick  _ throbbed.   _ With a whine, he twisted against the cuffs.  What he wouldn’t give for one nice firm squeeze…  It was probably good, for his sake, that he was cuffed.  If he had the option to slip into a corner and jack himself off to the thought of Ryan coming at knifepoint… he  _ might  _ choose that over life right now.

_ “Awwww whasa matter, Ryan?”   _ Gavin’s breath was heavy over the com.  _  “Getting nervous?  Afraid I’m -- nnnh -- about to get slitty?  Just close your eyes and pretend it’s Jeremy filling you up.”  _

Ryan’s clenched teeth were evident in his voice, his words dripping venom.   _ “Jeremy is — nnh — bigger than you.” _

_ “ … You little bitch.” _

A sudden wet  _ THUNK  _ sliced through the com, a sound that jolted down Jeremy’s spine.

_ “Is that big enough for you, Ryan?”  _ Gavin’s voice was a frantic snarl.   _ “That filling you up good?” _

For the first time, Ryan made a noise that Jeremy could tell was absolutely not sexual.  He could  _ hear  _ the blood in Ryan’s mouth, a shocked strangled  _ dying  _ whine.

“ … Ryan?”  Jeremy’s breath caught when no reply came.  “R-Ryan?”

Gavin’s voice answered.   _ “Ah, no more Ryan here, Jeremy boy.  He got a little messy, see. Just you and me left.” _

Jeremy’s vision was reeling.  No more help. No more Ryan. No one left in this maze of death but him and… Gavin.

Fuck.  Office space.  Ryan had mentioned an office space.  Jeremy was pretty sure he knew where that was, a dusty old room with desks and an ancient phone.  If he remembered the way, he wasn’t too far from it. Jeremy took a shuddering breath and took off.

Over the com, he heard Gavin let out a long, satisfied sigh.

_ “Boy, what a ride that was.  Didn’t get to take my time with Jack or Geoff, but Ryan bloody well made up for it.” _

Jeremy tried to block out Gavin’s voice as he ran down a hall.  Just one more turn...

_ “You know what I think, Jeremy?  I think your boyfriend made better noises for me when I slit his throat than he did the last time you blew him.” _

Jeremy choked and almost stumbled over his own feet as he finally made it to the office.  He caught his breath, scanning the darkness for...

There.

A box sat on the desk, closed and unplundered.  Jeremy rushed to it, almost not believing it was real.

_ “Jeremy.  Hey.” _

Fuck, this was going to be hard with his hands behind his back.  Jeremy turned away from the box and reached back, groping blindly with his cuffed hands.  He grabbed the box and searched for the latch by touch.

_ “Jeremy you better answer when I say your name.” _

The box was almost open.  Jeremy chewed his lip as he fumbled with it behind his back, cuffed hands struggling with the latch.  “Wh-what is it, Gavin?”

_ “Listen, I don’t appreciate you shooting Michael.  That’s my boy, there.” _

“Oh c-come on, you were gonna kill him anyway!”

_ “Yeah, but it’s the principle of the thing, right?  I was gonna kill him the Gavvy way. You probably did it all wrong.” _

Jeremy could almost hear Michael rolling his eyes.  It was strange — jarring, but somehow comforting — to think of the rest of the crew all standing back in the quiet respawn room, safe and sound, watching the action on the video feed.  Jeremy cringed as he fumbled with the box. Jack and Geoff must have been livid to see everyone forget that Gavin was alive.

The box clicked open.

Something clattered to the floor.  Jeremy cursed and dropped to his knees, searching the dirty floor for something bright and metal.  A bullet, he just needed a bullet…

Amid the dust and rubble lay a magazine.

Jeremy spat a curse before he could hold his tongue, and heard Gavin laugh in response.

_ “Having trouble over there?  Those bullets are awfully elusive, hm?” _

Fuck, where else did Ryan say the boxes were?  Jeremy shut his eyes and tried to think, tried to breathe.  Ryan had said something about a hidden basement, but Jeremy didn’t know where that was.  Where else…?

“ … Second floor, up the rusted ladder,” Jeremy murmured to himself.  He was pretty sure he’d passed something like that on the way here. He opened his eyes and took off in what he hoped was the right direction.

_ “I won’t lie, Jeremy, I’m getting a touch impatient.” _

“Yeah?”  Jeremy spat a reply.  “Guess you should get better at finding me.”

_ “Oh, you’d like that, hm?  Any requests?” _

Jeremy skidded to a stop on the dusty floor.  There it was, a line of rusted steel bars protruding from the concrete wall, going at least eight feet up.  Into a hatch in the low ceiling. Jeremy took a step forward, then froze.

Second floor, up the… ladder.

Jeremy pulled against his handcuffs, his stomach dropping as he looked up.  Fuck. He… he’d have to climb it…  _ backwards. _

_ “Not that I would listen to your requests, mind you… you’re my little toy this round, Jeremy.  All mine to play with however I like.” _

Jeremy swallowed.  He approached the ladder, turned around, and gripped the highest rung he could with his cuffed hands.  His knees were already wobbling as he put his foot on the first rung. He was shaking by the time his second foot left the ground.

If he fell and twisted an ankle -- or worse, broke a leg -- he wouldn’t be able to run when Gavin found him.  He’d be wounded prey, cries of pain drawing the nearest predator to finish him off. Jeremy’s cuffed hands shook against each rusted bar as he slowly pulled his way up.  Only a few rungs up, and the hard concrete ground already seemed terrifyingly far away. There was no way to  _ not  _ look down.

_ “Jeremyyyyyy…”   _ Gavin’s voice was a sweet singsong, whispering in his ear like a bedroom voice.   _ “Come out, come out… don’t you want me to give you as much fun as I gave Ryan?” _

Jeremy’s sweaty fingers trembled on the top rung.  He couldn’t reach up any higher with his hands, and he couldn’t walk his legs up any further without letting go of the rung.  Jeremy took a few long, deep breaths, and flung himself backwards. 

His feet slipped off the rungs, but his back hit the concrete ledge.  Jeremy gasped at the ceiling, shaking too hard to move, more grateful than he’d ever been to be lying flat on solid ground.  He never wanted to do that again.

_ “Mmh, Jeremy, you’re making such lovely noises…”   _ Gavin’s breath sounded heavy.   _ “I can’t wait to hear them in person… I’m so looking forward to this, love, you have no idea.  Been hungry to get my knife in you since you joined the crew.” _

Jeremy whined, and despite everything, his hips jerked.  He could hear Gavin snicker.

_ “Oooooh, you like that?” _

“Sh-shut up,” Jeremy bit out.  He pulled himself to his wobbling legs, trying not to think about how hard he was, trying not to look down the steep steep fall where he’d just climbed up the ladder.

_ “Feels good to cut into virgin meat… and oh, Jeremy, there’s so many parts of you that haven’t taken a knife yet.” _

A chill crept across Jeremy’s skin, as though Gavin’s blade was already trailing over his body.  He shivered and wrapped his fingers around the gun that was slipped in the back of his pants, squeezing.  He had to focus. Had to find a bullet. Had to put that bullet in Gavin’s skull.

He looked around the room.

The space was cramped, clearly a storage room, with two doors leading out and a mess of shelves packed into the corners.  Jeremy turned in a slow circle. Ryan hadn’t said  _ where  _ the box was, just “up the ladder.” Was this even the right place…?

There, on top of a rickety shelf, sat a box.

Jeremy whined, pulling at his cuffs.  He couldn’t reach up that high with his hands bound, not even if he could find something to stand on.  He glanced around the room, looking for options, and his gaze drifted back to the shelf.

… It looked like a one hard shove might knock the whole thing over.  If he felt like letting Gavin know  _ exactly  _ where he was.

No choice.  He needed a bullet.  Jeremy clenched his hands and slammed his shoulder into the shelf.  

It teetered, leaned to one side, and fell with the loudest clatter that anything had ever made in the history of the earth.  Jeremy cringed as the sound rang in the cramped space. Fuck, he was officially on a timer. There was no way Gavin didn’t hear that.

Jeremy’s heart jumped when his com beeped.  Michael’s voice was in his ear.

_ “You’re free, dipshit.  Get those cuffs off, and good fucking luck.” _

The com didn’t quite cut off Michael’s laugh before it muted.

Jeremy yanked against the cuffs, searching for the safety switches by touch.  Either the clatter of the falling shelf was still echoing in the cavernous warehouse, or the sound was just thumping in his head like alarm bells.  The cuffs clicked, slipped off his wrists, and Jeremy slowly lifted his hands. Free. 

It was easier to open the box without his hands cuffed.  Jeremy mouthed the word  _ please  _ again and again as his hands fumbled with the latch, too terrified to say the words out loud.  Finally, he cracked the box open.

A single, brassy bullet lay inside.  Metal salvation. Jeremy’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot he still had to move.  Bullet in hand, he dropped the empty box, hands shaking as he slipped the gun out of his pants. He was trembling so hard he could barely get it loaded.

Fuck, he had to calm down.  He couldn’t afford to miss. 

The bullet was in.  The gun cocked, the safety off.  Jeremy stared at it, almost not believing it was real.  A loaded gun, in his hands. He was armed.  _ He was armed. _

He aimed the gun toward the widest doorway, arms trembling. Fuck, all this work and it came down to this. His body was buzzing with unspent adrenaline, ready to keep running, climbing, fighting for his life. Standing here, motionless… Fuck, the silence was getting louder and louder.

There was a second doorway set into the wall on his left-hand side. Smaller, with a door still in the frame, and leading fuck knows where. He gave it a quick sweep with his gun, then refocused his attention on the larger, empty doorway.  The doorway that he’d climbed through gaped at his feet, but there was no way… Jeremy gave the ladder a quick glance before letting his gaze snap back to the biggest, widest doorway.

That was where Gavin would charge in. There was a hall beyond it, as well-lit as anything in the warehouse was.  The ladder was suicide and the other door looked like it might be a supply closet. Gavin would come in through the big door, he was sure of it. Well, he was pretty sure of it…

Fuck, the doubt was beginning to creep in now.  Jeremy worried his lip between his teeth until it was flushed.  He didn’t know his way around here. Not like the others did. Without Ryan to guide him, he’d been running blind. If there was a better, quieter way into this room...Fuck, that was just the kind of knowledge that would let Gavin turn the tables.

He gave the smaller door a second sweep. It hadn’t moved. All was silent.

Back to the larger doorway. Gun raised. Ready to go. Ready to win. Put a bullet in Gavin’s head before he could-

Fuck, that door was distracting. 

He should open it. Make sure no one was hiding behind it. And then reposition himself, in the corner, where he could keep both doors in sight.

Yeah. Yeah, that was the smart move. The tactical move. The one that would make his heartbeat stop pounding in his ears.

Jeremy crossed to the smaller door. Took a deep breath. Felt the weight of the gun in his hand. And threw it open.

Nothing. Empty hallway, concrete floor cracked with age. He breathed a sigh of relief.

A body slammed into him from behind. 

Everything spun. Adrenaline spiked, panic screaming in his head like a klaxon. The gun flew out of his hand, clattering somewhere above his head. He hit the concrete hard, a ringing blow that drove the air from his lungs. And from somewhere around his midsection, Gavin laughed.

“Hah! Knew you’d psych yourself out eventually!”

Jeremy gasped for breath, twisting frantically under Gavin’s weight. The gun. The gun. Where was the gun?

His weapon was gone. He could see it, lying on the dusty floor just out of his reach. But Gavin...Gavin was still armed. The knife glinted in his hand as he shifted on top of Jeremy, getting comfortable. Taking his time. Letting him see the knife, watching hungrily as Jeremy’s eyes flicked from his face to the blade and back again.

Gavin lifted the knife to his own smile, holding it in front of his lips like a hushing finger.  “Aw, Jeremy, you remind me of Geoff like this. He didn’t get to shoot his killer either.”

In the dim electric lights of the warehouse, the knife looked terrifyingly sharp.  Jeremy was almost surprised to realize he was shaking. Fuck, this wasn’t going to be like a quick bullet to the head.  Gavin could slice and carve while Jeremy was pinned under him. He could make it slow. Fuck.

He needed the gun,  _ he needed the gun. _

Gavin laughed, grinding his hips down against the bulge in Jeremy’s pants.  “Enjoyed the show, huh? What was your favorite, the bit where I shagged him or the bit where I killed him?”

Jeremy struggled, reaching for the gun. With his head twisted painfully, he could just see it.  He couldn’t focus with that warm, promising weight on his dick, but if he didn’t focus he was going to bleed out on this filthy floor, as slowly as Gavin wanted him to.

“Can’t pick, can you?”

The knife trailed across Jeremy’s throat, a steel tickle.  Jeremy froze, barely able to breathe through his terror. 

“Want one last ride before I slit you?”  Gavin’s voice was low, and his hips moved again.  “If you ask real nice, I might just tease my pants down, find a proper use for that heat you’re packing…”

Jeremy’s fingers brushed the barrel.  He was almost sobbing, arm nearly wrenching from his socket as his fingers strained. 

“Ah ah ah, mate.” Gavin’s arm descended into his field of vision, cutting off his view of the gun. “I’ll be taking that.”

A broken moan slipped from between Jeremy’s lips as Gavin’s long, thin fingers wrapped around the gun, carrying it up and away from him, like the hand of God taking his last hope of salvation.

“Th-the killer can’t use guns!” he stammered, clinging to the only protest he could think of. The only thing that wasn’t a plea, wasn’t the words  _ “please don’t kill me.” _

“Please, Jeremy.  You think I’d waste this chance to give you a slow death?” Gavin’s grin was wolfish.  He spun the gun around his finger with the ease of practice. “I can’t  _ kill _ you with the gun. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have  _ fun _ .”

He unloaded the gun, sliding out the single bullet that Jeremy had worked so hard for, the result of Ryan’s final efforts to help him. His only chance at survival, held delicately between Gavin’s fingers.  Jeremy almost sobbed. 

“What do you think, Jeremy? You still wanna choke on it?”

“F-fuck you!”  He couldn’t think of any other response.  _ Was _ there one, when faced with your own imminent death, other than stubborn defiance? 

“Mmm. You think we should  _ fuck _ , love?”  Gavin shifted down so he was sitting on Jeremy’s legs.  He trailed his knife over the obvious bulge in Jeremy’s pants.  “Sounds fair, after the ride I gave your boyfriend.”

The knife  _ ripped _ , and Jeremy sucked in a startled breath before realizing that there was no pain. Gavin was cutting his pants open, sawing into the crotch with forceful strokes that made him wince.  That blade was terrifyingly close to his thighs, his twitching dick.

Slowly, he was realizing just how  _ many  _ places Gavin could cut him up.

“Ah, there we go." A possessive hand gripped Jeremy’s thigh, spreading him.  The knife flicked away, disappearing into Gavin’s pocket, and Jeremy’s hips twitched when Gavin’s fingers slipped between his legs, pressing, probing.  Fuck, now was the time to fight back, with no blade pressing against his skin, but the delicate tease of Gavin’s fingers against his ass felt just as threatening as the blade did.

"What’s this? You guys didn’t fuck this morning?  _ Well _ .” The look in Gavin’s eyes was terrifying. Exhilarating. “I guess you’re gonna have to choke on it after all. Open up.”

Jeremy obeyed, mouth falling open as easily as he’d dropped to his knees.  _ Fight _ and  _ submit _ were two warring concepts in his fear-numb mind, the desire to make this harder for Gavin losing ground to the need to minimize his own suffering.  

Gavin slipped the bullet past Jeremy’s teeth, letting it sit heavy and cold on his tongue. Almost too long to fit, like he really might choke on it if he wasn’t careful. 

“Bullet in your skull,” Gavin murmured, pressing Jeremy’s mouth closed, stroking his thumb along the curve of his bottom lip. “Good way to die, yeah?  S’what you’re used to. Proper slut for getting shot in the head, our lil’ J is. Ah, but we can do better." 

Gavin’s slim fingers pushed past Jeremy’s lips to pry him open, reaching into him possessively. Claiming the bullet a second time.  Gavin was smirking as he pressed the slick bullet between Jeremy’s legs, a place Jeremy  _ hadn’t  _ taken a bullet before.  The thin metal tip breached him easily, sliding inside, making him shiver.  It was  _ cold _ , long and hard, barely lubricated but slim enough for that not to matter. Gavin pushed it inside in one long, unbroken thrust, not stopping until his entire finger was inside Jeremy as well, buried up to the knuckle, bullet as deep as he could get it. 

Jeremy could feel it, after Gavin’s finger slid out, a cold, hard pressure inside him. Like he’d been shot low in the stomach, solid and unyielding.  _ There’s a bullet inside me. _  He thought the words, testing, and a bolt of pleasure hit him, sweet and intense. 

Gavin pressed the empty gun against him, just below his navel, and squeezed the trigger.

"Bang.”

Jeremy sucked in a breath. His cock twitched helplessly, still trapped in his ruined pants. Fuck, he wanted...

“That doing it for you?” Gavin shifted forward suddenly, sitting down on Jeremy’s dick again.  He dropped the empty, worthless gun to the floor and pressed his knife against Jeremy’s throat, as though he couldn’t resist putting steel to flesh.  “Hoping I’ll be merciful? Let you come in my ass with your bullet inside you before I slit you open?” 

The slow grind of Gavin’s hips was so good it had Jeremy nodding, soft whimpers falling from his lips, resistance all but forgotten. The steel edge of the knife dug into his neck and snapped him back.

“Say it.”

“P-please -- ”

“Good. Good little victim. Not afraid to admit that you want it. Want a little pleasure with your pain. Just like your boyfriend got, before I slit his throat open and watched him choke on his own blood.”

“Nnnh --”  A sob choked its way out of Jeremy as the knife slid slowly across his neck, opening a hair-thin slice.  It felt like a mocking tease, a little appetizer to show him what it would feel like when Gavin… oh fuck…

He was going to die under Gavin’s knife. Long, drawn-out torture like he’d seen on the screens in the respawn room. Like he’d said he wanted. And with no restrictions, no ‘please don’t’s, no warm promises to make it feel  _ safe- _

The blade dragged up to his cheek, pressing, teasing.  Jeremy’s knuckles were white where his fingers clenched against the concrete floor.  He hadn’t set any boundaries. Gavin could do anything. Gavin could make him look like Geoff and Jack did, and he could do it while Jeremy was alive.

Oh fuck.   _ Fuck _ .  

The knife trailed down his jaw, opening up another slim cut, a hot line of pain that made Jeremy gasp.  Gavin let out a sigh of pleasure at the sight. The knife pressed harder, like a lover’s erection grinding against him, eager to get  _ inside.  _ Make him feel what Michael had felt, drag noises out of him like Geoff had made-  _ fuck- _ Michael had held himself back, denied his killer the pleasure, but Jeremy couldn’t-  _ couldn’t- _

“P-please!” Jeremy spilled out.  The panic felt genuine, consuming, even with the phrase  _ safeword  _ resting in the back of his mind.  “P-please, just -- sh-shit, make it quick, please -- ”

Gavin’s breath was heavy, as though there was nothing more arousing Jeremy could have said.  “Oh? Go on, Jeremy, don’t be shy. Beg me proper like.”

“Ah --”  Jeremy winced as the knife dug deeper.  “G-god, I’ll be good, just -- nnnh --” Jeremy squirmed under Gavin as the knife tickled over his skin, horrible anticipation of pain.  “K-kill me quick, please!”

The knife flicked in Gavin’s hand, his smile glinting in the blade for just a second as he raised it.

“Since you begged so pretty…”

The knife came down.  

——

Silence. Stillness.

Safety.

Jeremy took a slow, deep breath, then let it out again.  The soft cradle of the pod was warmer than usual, pressing down on Jeremy like a heavy blanket. A blanket that smelled comforting and familiar, and was breathing in time with his newly-activated lungs…

Jeremy was murmuring a name even before he blinked his eyes open.  “ … Ryan?”

“Hey, Jer.” The blanket shifted, Ryan lifting his head from Jeremy’s chest to smile at him, warm and gentle. “Thought you might appreciate a warm welcome.”

Jeremy couldn’t speak. He lifted his arms instead, wrapping them around Ryan’s warm, solid body. Hugging him back.

“The hell he did!”

Jeremy looked up as a familiar face leaned over the pod, hands braced on the edge.

“Michael?”

“That dumbass has been in your pod pretty much since he crawled out of his,” Michael accused.  “ _ He _ needed  _ you _ .”

“Well.” Ryan snuggled closer. “That too.”

From outside the pod, Jeremy could hear Jack sigh.

“Gavin was  _ really  _ bending the rules by picking up that gun.”

Without detaching himself from Ryan, Jeremy pulled himself upright.  Jack leaned against an open pod -- probably her own -- dressed in simple respawn room clothes.  Geoff, similarly dressed, crossed his arms with a dark scowl.

“Bending?  He  _ broke  _ the rules!  No touching a gun as a killer!”

“Well, he didn’t  _ fire  _ it —“

“No touching!”

Jack shrugged.  “I guess he wears the shame collar next round.  We’ll put it to a vote later.”

Jeremy’s heart skipped.  “Uh… shame collar?”

“It’s for naughty boys who break the rules,” explained Jack, as though that was sufficient.  

Geoff flicked her nose.  “Or naughty girls who break the rules.”

“What?  I’m never naughty.”

Ryan chuckled.  “That’s not true.”

“Not compared to the rest of you!”

Geoff flung his hands over his head and turned to Jeremy as though just remembering he was there.  “How did you not figure out it was Gavin? Who the fuck else makes that much of a mess?”

Gavin’s voice chimed in from the screen in the corner.

_ “Well, you know, I was trying to throw you lot off my trail.  Shake things up a bit. If you always kill the same way, people get wise.” _

Jeremy’s gaze was drawn to the massive screen, and for the second time, his heart skipped.  He could see a blood-splattered Gavin standing proudly over his own bloody corpse, looking up at the camera with a coy smile.

Geoff leaned towards the screen as though Gavin could see his snarl.  “Making a huge goddamn mess was the most Gavin thing you possibly could have done!”

Gavin shrugged and knelt down to drive the knife as deep into Jeremy’s chest as it would go.  He straightened up with a proud smile.

Jeremy frowned at the screen.  He hauled himself out of the clone pod, followed by Ryan, and crossed the room.  “Will you stop desecrating my corpse?”

Gavin placed his foot between Jeremy’s legs, shoving teasingly.   _ “You haven’t quite gone flaccid yet, Jeremy!  Want that ride I promised you?” _

“Get a measuring tape first,” Geoff suggested dryly.  “I hear he’s bigger than you.”

The room exploded into laughter.

Gavin ripped the knife out of Jeremy’s chest and pointed it, dripping, at the camera.   _ “My ass, Jeremy’s bigger than me!  Screw you, Ryan!” _

The game, Jeremy was realizing as he laughed with the rest of them, was more than just a game.  It was a defiance of the human condition as much as the respawn room was.  __ With their clone pods, the Fakes had conquered death, but this was something more.  The creeping terror of being hunted, the helpless panic of being caught, the humiliation and agony of slow, slicing torture…  

Jeremy had plunged into these horrors and come out the other side.  Now, staring at his own corpse bleeding out under Gavin’s shoe, he was laughing.  He felt safe, his arm was around Ryan, and he was laughing.

He felt like he was only beginning to understand the Fake AH Crew.


	4. Debuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some humiliation themes, some more sexualized gunplay, some (consensual) really mean rough sex, and a TON more fucking than previous chapters.

_ A moment of your time before you enjoy the next chapter, reader. _

_ In this story, me and my co-writer are writing Jack as a trans girl.Let me take a moment to make a few statements about that. _

_ You’ll notice as you read that Jack has not had any sort of bottom surgery.For those curious, there is lore regarding the respawn pods and how a trans character might interact with them, but the long story short is that this is Jack’s choice.Why are we choosing to write her this way?Well, if I’m being honest, it’s because both of the writers happen to be not-cis persons with original plumbing who use and enjoy our original plumbing, and it’s cathartic and validating (and hot) to write about a character that we relate to in this way.We’re far from the only not-cis people to feel this way.  _

_ Let me take a moment to acknowledge something Problematic™: One of the many shitty stereotypes that trans women (and fem-presenting amab people in general) often have to deal with is the myth that they’re all sexual predators.I acknowledge that I’m on thin fucking ice by writing a trans girl as someone who is (CONSENSUALLY!SAFELY!) indulging in extremely violent roleplay scenarios that include elements of rape-play.(Because that’s effectively what this series is: consensual roleplay.)  _

_ But here’s the thing, my boys girls and etcs: people of all sex/gender/presentation combinations deserve representation in the kind of porn that gets them off, not just in vanilla porn.I don’t want to be an untouchable wholesome kitten who can only enter the sexual world as someone cherished and protected and smothered in validation.I want to be stepped on, dammit!I want to step on people!And I would argue that so long as correct warnings are used and harmful myths are never perpetuated, there’s not a damn thing wrong with providing some representation in porn for kinky trans and nonbinary people from all walks of life. _

_ That said, if I am perpetuating a harmful myth, or if there’s a warning I should have included, I encourage people to let me know. _

_ Thank you for attending my Ted Talk, enjoy your murder porn. _

_ \- Wren _

 

* * *

 

 

“Here opens the trial of Gavin Free.  His crime: handling a gun while in the role of killer.  His punishment, if found guilty: the collar of shame!”

Despite the term “trial,” there was nothing somber about the mood in Fake AH Headquarters as the crew sprawled in the lounge, all eyes focused on one person.  Gavin was curled up on a big leather chair, arms crossed sullenly over his chest. Everything about him was a living  _ pout _ .  

“I didn’t fire it!  And we’ve always been allowed to handle gun parts as killers!”

“That was a  _ full gun,  _ Gavin.”  Geoff leaned over the table, and Gavin flinched slightly, as though pressed back into the leather by the force of the Dad Voice.  “And you took it away from a bystander. We’ve  _ never  _ allowed that in the rules.”

Gavin held up his hands almost in a plea.  “I was just trying to be scary, yeah? Put Jeremy in place like you said!”

Jeremy straightened up sharply.  “Wait, what?”

Geoff pointed a stern, tattooed finger at Jeremy without so much as taking his eyes off Gavin.  “ _ You  _ were dumb enough to say ‘no boundaries.’  We had to fix that.”

“I’m still disappointed that Gavin got first crack at it,” grumbled Ryan.

Michael shrugged.  “I’ll admit, Gavin did a good job.  Jeremy was sobbing like a bitch near the end there.  But taking the gun from a bystander is still a no-no.  Could have just dragged Jeremy away from it.”

Gavin smiled and nipped his finger.  “And miss the chance to shove a bullet up his ass?”

“Unrepentant!”  Ryan pointed at Gavin.  “He’s not even sorry! I think the case rests.”

Geoff turned to Jack.  “Jack, what do you think?”

“Oh yeah.”  Jack’s smile was giddy.  “Gavin fucked up.”

Gavin flung his hands up.  “Seriously? All of you? Jack, you’re only voting guilty because you’ve got a  _ fetish  _ for the collar!”

“I think we’ve all got a fetish for fucking with Gavin,” Michael chuckled.

“W-well -- Jeremy’s the offended party, right?”  Gavin’s pleading gaze turned to Jeremy. “He’s got a vote now too!”

Jeremy paused, fingers drumming against his leg.  Gavin was in full puppy mode, curled up on the chair, lip almost quivering.  Jeremy frowned. It was easy,  _ very  _ easy, to remember Gavin’s smirk as he dragged the knife over Jeremy’s skin,  _ through  _ his skin.  The snarl when he’d killed Ryan.  The humiliating things he’d forced Jeremy to say.

“Yeah, no; he’s totally guilty. Of being a prick, if nothing else.”

Gavin flopped back in the chair with a dramatic groan.  Michael laughed, Ryan fist-pumped, and Jeremy couldn’t keep a satisfied smile off his face.  Geoff held up a hand, and the room fell silent.

“There’s one more vote that matters.”  He still hadn’t taken his gaze off Gavin.  “Gav, do you accept the punishment?”

Gavin’s face was flushing red, his gaze darting around the room.  Jeremy wondered if he was imagining it, but it looked like there was a larger than normal bulge in those crisp navy dress pants.

“ … I accept the punishment,” Gavin mumbled.

Jack sprang to her feet as though she had been waiting to hear those words and yanked Gavin out of the chair by the front of his shirt.  She pulled something out of her pocket, and Jeremy caught a quick flash of red before it was out of his view. With Jack’s body in the way, Jeremy couldn’t see what she was doing, but he could tell she was fussing with Gavin’s neck.

“Quit squirming, Gav.”

“W-well quit tickling me, Jack!”

With one more deft movement of Jack’s hand -- and one more whine from Gavin -- she stepped back proudly, and Jeremy got his first look at Gavin’s punishment.

“Oh -- oh my god.”  Jeremy burst into laughter.  “Oh my god, that’s  _ perfect!” _

The view could not have been more satisfying.  Gone was the cocky, snarling killer who had made Jeremy’s blood race with icy fear. In his place was a pouting slouch of a man, a bondage collar adorned with cat bells around his throat. Soft red leather with a gentle dusting of opalescent powder, little golden bells spaced out every half-inch, and a heart-shaped tag hanging demurely against his neck. 

“Behold -- the shame collar!”  Jack held out her hand. “You break the rules, you get a debuff for the next round of Murder.  Gav can’t take this off until he dies. … Or safewords.”

Jeremy was biting his lip as he stood up.  God, Gavin's cheeks were almost as red as the collar, and he stood there meekly as Jeremy reached out and turned the golden tag between his fingers.  It bore the word  _ “shame” _ in curly cursive script.  He gave the tag a teasing yank, and Gavin’s breath hitched as he was jerked forward.  The bells jingled with the motion.

“‘S not funny,” Gavin muttered, barely meeting Jeremy’s eye. “The killer’ll be on me in no time with this thing.  And that’s if I’m lucky.” 

“And what if  _ you’re _ the killer?”

“They everyone’ll hear me coming!”

“And...what’s to stop you just taking it off? Or silencing it somehow? Wrapping your shirt around it so the bells don’t ring?”

“If I’m even  _ suspected _ of collar tampering, then next round I wear it again,  _ and _ I go in naked.”

Fuck.   _ That  _ was an image.  Jeremy yanked the collar again, leaning in so he could breathe in Gavin’s ear.

“And...if you did it again?” It was too good not to ask.

He could feel Gavin shudder against him.  “Well, no one’s ever-”

“Kitty ears and a butt plug!” chimed in Jack.  “With, like, a tail stapled to it!”

Gavin winced and pushed Jeremy back, but he didn’t take Jeremy’s hand off the collar.  “Bloody hell -- you just  _ had _ to ask.”

The leather was butter-soft under Jeremy’s fingers, opalescent coating giving it just the barest hint of texture. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of touching it.

“And...I assume the reason it’s red is…”

“Because I’m expected to die, yeah.” Gavin gave him a reproachful look before averting his eyes again. “This thing’ll scream ‘come kill me’ every time I move. I’m an easy mark. No way I survive the night un-slit.” 

Jeremy’s fingers traced the edge of the collar, brushing skin. “It’s so straight...it’s kinda like a template.  _ Cut Here. _ ”

Gavin sucked in a breath, hint of arousal tinting his pouting.  “Y-you like the collar that much? I’ll wear it later while we shag if you do me nice in the ring.”

“You say that to  _ all _ the potential killers,” Michael teased.

-

The helicopter ride to the site of the game was the most light-hearted that Jeremy could remember. Gone was the nervous excitement, the unspoken knowledge that soon, very soon, they would be  _ slicing _ into each other. In its place was a pervasive giddiness; a delighted cruelty that circled Gavin like a whirlwind.

“He needs to sit up front,” Jack had said sternly. “Right next to me, because if I leave him in the back with you idiots, you’ll fuck the chopper right out of the sky.”

“And you might wanna use his stick shift,” Geoff had added with a smirk.

Jack had merely flicked her hand at him with a smile.  “And I might wanna use his stick shift.” 

With Gavin safe beside Jack- if ‘safe’ was the correct word, with the way her hand kept drifting sideways, out of view- the rest of the crew was limited to stifled giggles and occasional lewd suggestions.  It was as though everyone had forgotten that at least one person in that helicopter was about to die at the hands of another.

“Gavin’s getting off first,” Jack announced at the first drop point. “Removing temptation and all that. Gav, grab your shit.”

Gavin stepped into the back of the helicopter almost nervously, as though unsure that he’d even be allowed to disembark.  The crew must look like a pack of hungry wolves to him, Jeremy thought. Ravenous smiles all around. Jeremy could see Gavin’s breath hitching.

“J-just gonna get my gear, lads,” Gavin said weakly.  “Don’t mind me.”

Ryan was already rising from his seat.  “Oh no no no, allow  _ me.” _

This time, the whole cockpit could hear Gavin’s breath catch in a thin whine as Ryan stepped close to him, one finger hooking in that bright red collar, making the bells jingle.  Ryan slid a com over Gavin’s ear, tenderly, trailing his fingers over the soft rim as Gavin shivered. Quick as a breath, his hand slipped into Gavin’s hair and gave it a sharp yank, exposing Gavin’s neck so he could breathe against it.

“Hope I’m the killer this round,” Ryan growled, face buried in Gavin’s neck.  “You look too  _ delicious  _ to pass up.”  Without pulling back, Ryan clipped the cuffs onto Gavin’s belt.  “Here’s your cuffs, baby, and I  _ hope _ you got a gun in your box, so you can shoot the first person to grab your dick, and truss yourself up all nice for me-”

Jack’s sharp voice cut him off.  “Jesus, Ryan, keep your dick in your pants!  Gavin, out!”

Ryan obeyed, letting go of Gavin’s hair and stepping back, but didn’t stop giving Gavin the most blatant eyefuck Jeremy had ever seen.  He tossed one of the boxes, and Gavin caught it with a stumble.

“Yeah, Gavin, go ahead and get off first. You don’t mind if the rest of us keep going and  _ get off _ too, do you?”

“Christ, Ryan,” Gavin mumbled.  Clutching his box, he slipped out the open door and turned back to give the crew one more nervous look.

Jeremy couldn’t resist a mocking wave.  “See you inside, Gav!”

He couldn’t hear Gavin’s whimper over the aggressive chop of the helicopter blades, but the look on his face was enough.  Then Geoff slammed the door shut and the helicopter was lifting away.

Almost immediately, Gavin whined over the com.   _ “Of all the bloody -- this would have been a great time to get a box with something in it!” _

“Good.”  Geoff leaned back in his seat, gently tapping his com as though wishing he could reach through it.  “It’s never fun when the collar wearer gets something in their box.”

“Drop point!” called Jack.  The door opened, and Ryan hopped out with a box under his arm.

“Hey, let’s not rule out that Gavin could be acting.”  Michael shrugged as the chopper flew off again. __ “He threw us off his trail pretty well last time.”

Gavin scoffed.   _ “If I had a knife right now, I’d bloody brag about it!  I’d call it out each time I slit a throat! Here comes jingly death, bitches!” _

_ “Death is the one comin’ for you, Jingles.” _

_ “W-was that a confession?  Ryan’s the killer, everyone!  Don’t let him near me!” _

_ “I’m not the killer, more’s the pity.  But if I was, everyone should let me near Gavin.” _

“Drop point!” called Jack.

One by one, the Fake AH Crew was distributed around the edge of the abandoned warehouse.  When it was Jeremy’s turn, he was flicking open the switch on his box almost as soon as his feet hit the ground.

God, he wanted to see a knife inside.

The box creaked open as the sound of the chopper faded.  Jeremy’s heart jumped as he saw a flash of metal, then caught in his throat as he realized it was a gun.  Somehow, in all the excitement, he’d forgotten this was a possibility. 

“All right, everyone; this is Jeremy Dooley with the gun!”  He picked it up out of the box and twirled it once around his finger before letting it fall neatly into his grip.  “Nobody panic; you all know the  _ phenomenal _ luck I’ve had with these things in the past!”

_ “Well, at least it’s not Geoff.” _

_ “HEY!” _

_ “Chopper’s parked!”   _ At the sound of Jack’s voice, Jeremy straightened up.   _ “Game on!” _

Gavin’s bells were a soft sound in the background, picked up by his com like distant windchimes. Jeremy grinned, a memory of the previous game coming back to him as he stepped into the warehouse. 

“Hey, is someone putting on handcuffs? I thought I heard a little jingle.”

_ “Ha ha.”   _ Gavin’s voice was sullen.   _ “Go shove a bullet up your ass.” _

Geoff laughed.   _ “Good one, Jeremy. Not at all derivative of a popular song, like so many of our pre-planned taunts are.” _

_ “Yeah, generally we just go...Hm hm hmmm, hm hm hmmm, hm hm hm, hm hm-” _

_ “IS THAT FUCKING JINGLE BELLS?!” _

_ “You bet your jangly little ass it is!”  _

Jeremy’s laughter echoed in the dusty storage room.  He felt bold this round, maybe too bold, but it was impossible to not be swept up in the excitement.  The warehouse didn’t feel so grim, so gloomy, with six voices all bantering and laughing.

_ “Oh what fun it is to hmm hmm hmm hmm SLAYING song tonight -” _

_ “You’re not funny!” _

_ “Gavin the jangly victim...had a very slittable neck…” _

_ “Fuck’s sake, that’s got nothing to do with bells!” _

_ “Well, we sort of got into a Christmas theme, I thought.”  _

Another mocking voice over the com, another joke at Gavin’s expense. Jeremy grinned as he listened.  _ Fuck _ , it felt good to hear the cocky little prick put in his place. 

_ “Oh, I hear something! Something’s coming this way! You guys!! I think it’s Santa Claus!!” _

_ “You’re not funny, Jack. Slit me or get out of my way, yeah?” _

_ “Aww, Gavin.  You sure there’s not some third option you’d prefer?” _

A soft  _ zzzp _ whispered through the com, just barely audible against the ambient noise and his own breathing. 

_ “Nnnh, J-Jack-” _

_ “I mean, as long as you’re on your knees, you might as well...” _

_ “F-fucking hell, the killer could -” _

_ “Just a little kiss, Gavvy boy. Show a girl some love.” _

_ “Mmph-” _

Jeremy’s breath hitched.  For a moment, he froze, fingertips gently touching his com as though to coax the sounds out.

_ “Ahh, that’s it… just like that, good boy… mmmh, don’t get  _ too _ excited, now. You have a lot of running to do in those pants...gotta make sure they still fit.” _

_ “Ah- f-fuck- i-is that all you wanted? I barely-” _

_ “Gotta go, Gavin! Someone around here is making an awful lot of noise!” _

Jeremy gave his head a little shake, as though that would be enough to clear it. Wow. The com really  _ did _ pick up those sloppy blowjob noises. 

With a harsh exhale, Jeremy continued walking.  His sudden boner wasn’t important right now. What was important was staying alert, not letting anyone get the jump on him, and, god help him, listening for suspicious behavior. Even if it  _ did _ mean analyzing every word that had been said, every order and innuendo, in case they held a deeper, more sinister meaning....

Fuck, it was difficult to think straight when he was this hard.

_ “Hey, Gav!” _

_ “ … Quit looking at me like that, Geoff.” _

_ “Awww, look at those red cheeks.  Are you learning a valuable lesson about what happens when you break the rules?” _

_ “S-steady, you’re getting awfully close for someone who isn’t a killer -- I-I’ll scream if you pull a knife out!” _

_ “Ha, I wish I was the killer this round.  Not trying to get in your guts, Gav. Just wanna get in your pants...” _

_ “Ah -- G-Geoff -- ” _

_ “So... are you learning your lesson like a good boy?” _

_ “Ah -- y-yes --” _

_ “Did you all hear that?  Gavin’s learned his lesson!” _

_ “D-does this mean I can get the collar off?” _

_ “Hahaha, that’s cute!  Well, I’d better be on my way!” _

_ “Geoff!” _

_ “Be a good boy, Gav.  Make sure you sing real pretty when the killer finds you, so the rest of us can enjoy it.” _

Jeremy’s breath caught and his hand squeezed around the gun.  Fuck. Okay. That was...very arousing, but it was true that Geoff had just passed up a very good chance to kill Gavin. Did that mean Geoff was definitely not the killer? No. But did it mean he was  _ probably _ not the killer? ...Also no. He was pretty sure. Actually, Jeremy wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything. Fuck, his pants were tight.

_ “Hiya, Jingles!” _

A thump over the com made Jeremy straighten up, listening hard. It sounded like Gavin had been thrown against the wall or floor. 

_ “O-oh fuck, Ryan, y-you’re the killer?”  _

_ “Ah, no such luck. Believe me, Gavin; I’d love to carve you up all pretty.” _

_ “Aaah! Ryan-!” _

_ “But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy your body in other ways. Mmm, nice and firm and tight, all this unbroken skin…” _

_ “G-gentle, Ryan, please-” _

_ “Gotta have my fun now, Gavin. You won’t be good for much once the killer finds you.” _

_ “A-ah- oh f-fuck-” _

_ “Well, good luck!” _

_ “W-wait, Ryan! D-don’t just leave me-!” _

Jeremy bit his lip. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the sounds coming through his com. The increasing desperation in Gavin’s voice. If it wasn’t for the gun, he might be tempted to find a quiet corner to jerk himself off. Or, fuck; track Gavin down and  _ use _ him like his teammates were doing. 

He squeezed the handle, feeling the weight of the weapon. The responsibility. Reminding himself that he had a job to do here. And that job  _ wasn’t _ to grab Gavin by his pretty collar and bend him over the nearest piece of furniture, no matter  _ what _ he heard next-

_ “Well, well, well. What have we here?” _

_ “Michael, if you’re gonna slit me, please just make it quick-” _

_ “Oh, I doubt the killer’s gonna do anything  _ quick _ this round. Not with such a nice, easy target.”  _ Gavin gasped, a soft sound of pleasure through the com.  _ “No, I’d bet they’ve already had their hands on you, and are just planning to come back for seconds.” _

_ “M-Michael- A-ah, that’s-” _

_ “Distracting?” _ Michael’s voice was a cruel whisper.  _ “Good.” _

_ “Y-you’re teasing me-” _

_ “Mmm. Yeah. I am.” _

_ “F-fuck-” _

_ “You want more?” _

_ “I-I s-shouldn’t-” _

_ “Yeah, that’s right. You shouldn’t. You’re an awfully stationary target right now. Not to mention, it’s gonna be hell trying to run for your life all hard and throbbing.” _

_ “A-ah --” _

_ “So what’s it gonna be, Gavin? You want more?” _

_ “...Y-yes, please-” _

_ “Hmm. Too bad.” _

_ “Michael-!” _

_ “Well,  _ one _ of us has to be reasonable. Hear you ‘round, Gavin! _ ”

Jeremy swallowed, checked his surroundings, and gave his dick a quick, furtive squeeze through his pants.  Fuck, people must be seeking Gavin out. Not that it was difficult, with his collar ringing merrily each time he took a step. Jeremy’s teammates were probably just as hard as he was, only they could  _ do _ something about it.  No gun and no responsibility meant empty hands, and empty hands meant freedom to cop a feel.

How long before someone’s resolve wore down and they dragged Gavin to some dark corner for a little more action than a quick grope?  … Was that what the killer was waiting for?

Jeremy blinked as he realized that he was hearing the faint jingle of bells not just through his com, but from the hall up ahead.  It was a shocking relief to  _ know  _ that someone was coming long before he saw them, and more importantly, before  _ they _ saw  _ him _ .  Jeremy was just now appreciating what a massive disadvantage it was to be wearing the collar, even if you weren’t being hazed by the whole crew.  

As the soft chime of the bells drew closer, Jeremy’s fingers danced on his gun thoughtfully.  Everyone else got to have some fun with Gavin, he should at  _ least  _ get a chance to enjoy the humiliated look on that cute face.  Maybe make Gavin do some pretty tricks at gunpoint.

No risks, though.

Jeremy’s gun was lifted as Gavin rounded the corner.  He flinched back, hands flying up to shield his face. 

“Oh, bloody- t-thought you had a knife for a second there.”

Jeremy snickered, but didn’t lower his gun.  “Well, look who it is.”

Evidence of the crew’s affection was all over Gavin’s body.  If his flushed cheeks and obvious erection weren’t enough, there was a hickey on his neck still wet from a hungry mouth.  A few more buttons than usual were undone on his dark blue button-up, a fresh pink bite mark peeking out in the gap.

“Y-y-you’ve got the gun!”  Gavin’s fear was transforming into delight before Jeremy’s eyes, as though he was thrilled to see the barrel pointed at his head.  “I’m safe as long as I’m around you! Jeremy,  _ please  _ let me follow you, please?”

Jeremy’s arm tensed and he took a step back as Gavin advanced on him.  “Hey, just because you’ve got the collar doesn’t mean I won’t shoot! Not another step!”

Gavin pressed his hands together, pleading.  “Please, Jeremy, you’re my only protection! Let me stay by you!  If I was the killer, don’t you think I’d have offed someone by now?  I’ve had plenty of chances!”

Jeremy frowned.  “After what you did to me last round?  I’d rather let the killer catch you.”

“I-I’ll be  _ very _ grateful if you protect me!”

“In fact, I’d like to watch what they do to you.”

“I’ll earn my keep, Jeremy!  I’ll --”

“What, you’ll let me  _ use _ you like everyone else has? Grab you by that pretty collar and  _ take _ what I want?”  Jeremy let his gaze drop, indulging in a hungry look at what Gavin was offering.  “It’s not a bargaining chip if it’s up for grabs.”

“Please, Jeremy -- nnh --”  With a whine of frustration, Gavin pulled the mic away from his lips, his next words a loud whisper.  “You liked it when Michael blew you, right? While you were just  _ watching _ a murder go down? Mate, I’ll blow you while you hold that gun up! I’ll work real hard, jingle my collar all ‘round, draw the killer out. Give you someone to  _ shoot _ . I won’t stop, neither. Not ‘till you finish. No matter who comes running.”

Heat rushed to Jeremy’s face, his dick twitching.  “Th-that’s -- okay, fuck, that’s tempting.”

Gavin moved his mic back into place.  “If the killer gets me, there’s no help coming. You’re my only hope. I’d let you screw me on the floor if I thought you’d be able to shoot straight.”

_ Christ _ , that was hot. That desperation, the knowledge that Jeremy was the only thing standing between Gavin and a sharp knife… Fuck, he was gonna make some bad decisions. 

“ … All right, you’ve got my attention.”  Jeremy lowered the gun. “How’re we gonna-”

“Up ahead, I know a place.”

Gavin seized his hand, dragging Jeremy forward like they were two teens about to make out in an alley.  

_ “Hey, hey, Jeremy.”   _ Geoff’s voice was an excited whisper over the com.   _ “What’d he offer you?  C’mon, you can tell us!” _

Jeremy kept his hand on his gun and his eyes on the shadows as Gavin led him through the warehouse.  “A damn good deal.”

Ryan huffed.   _ “Lucky.” _

_ “Hey, do we know that Jeremy’s not the killer?” _

_ “I don’t think Gavin would lie and say he’s got a gun if he didn’t.” _

_ “Mmh, so Jeremy’s either innocent or he’s wearing the collar next round.” _

“In here,” Gavin whispered, as though his com wasn’t picking it up.  “Come on!”

The room was small, crowded, and had only one door.  Jeremy remembered this room. He’d walked by it before, never wandering inside for fear that he’d be cornered.

“Pretty tight squeeze in here…” Jeremy hooked two fingers in Gavin’s collar, giving it a sharp yank  _ downward _ . “Might be better if only one of us was standing.”

Gavin dropped easily to his knees. Eagerly. “Oh, y-yeah, Jeremy. Great idea.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them.  I’m not convinced you’re not the killer.”

Gavin’s nervous gaze flicked to the gun, then lifted submissively to Jeremy’s face.  God, obedience was such a good look on him. “Y-you want I should handcuff myself? So you know I’ll be a good boy while you use me?  Got ‘em right here on my belt.”

Jeremy’s breath hitched.  Oh fuck, that was a thought.  Pretty silver jingles on Gavin’s neck  _ and  _ wrists.  Helpless and handcuffed while Jeremy used his mouth… The words  _ “do it”  _ were almost on Jeremy’s tongue before he hesitated.

“ … I thought you could only cuff yourself if you shot the wrong person?”

In spite of the gun pointed at his head, Gavin gave him a guilty, lopsided smile.  “Ehh I was hoping you’d forgotten. Be nice to see someone else in this collar.”

_ “Oooh, Gav. _ ”  Ryan chuckled over the com.   _ “That’s playing dirty.” _

“Fucking really, Gavin?” Jeremy pushed the gun  _ hard _ against Gavin’s head, and his smirk dissolved into a wince. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re worth the fucking effort.  You might be more entertaining as a corpse than a blow -- ”

“W-wait, I’ll be good, I’m sorry --”

“Yeah?  Prove it.” Jeremy lowered the barrel of the gun so it was pressed against Gavin’s soft lips. “Give me a demonstration.  Show me you know how to use that mouth for something other than talking.” 

Gavin’s eyes went wide, locked onto Jeremy’s. He could see fear there...but he could also see arousal. Slowly, as though he could’ve pulled back in time, Gavin’s lips parted. His pretty pink tongue curled out, licking against the metal. Tonguing the hole where a bullet would burst through. Mouthing at it. Kissing. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Jeremy breathed the words, just barely audible. “But how deep can you take it?”

Gavin’s eyes were burning into him, the intensity of the emotion there ringing in his ears. He opened wider. Slid his mouth over the barrel. Let it push against his tongue. Into his throat. Hollowed his cheeks and  _ sucked _ . 

The sight of Gavin down on his knees, working the gun like it was a cock, conjured a filthy image in Jeremy’s mind.  The most Gavin might get from sucking a dick would be a hot load down his throat, but sucking a  _ gun  _ to completion -- the prize for Gavin to swallow would be a nice, hard bullet right through the spinal cord. Head so good it was  _ lethal _ .

“Fuck, okay.” Jeremy held the gun in place with one hand, watching Gavin continue to work as he fumbled with his pants. “You pass. Get over here.”

Gavin slid his mouth off the gun with an audible sigh of relief, swallowing down Jeremy’s dick like it was a lifeline.  Jeremy’s knees almost buckled.  _ Fuck _ . Wet and soft and desperate for approval…  There was none of the licking, the teasing, that Gavin had given the gun.  He swallowed Jeremy’s cock like he couldn’t wait to get it inside him. Couldn’t wait to prove that he was worth protecting, worth keeping alive.

… It wouldn’t hurt to give him a little reminder that Jeremy was the one who got to decide that.  He nudged the barrel of the gun against Gavin’s forehead.

“Eyes up.  Look at me while you’re choking on my dick.”

Gavin’s eyes flicked upward, wide and submissive. Not protesting the harsh command or the cold, threatening metal against his skull. Watching Jeremy’s face as he worked. Fuck, he was pretty. Soft hair and soft lashes and looking so eager to please… it was almost hard to be mean.

Something was missing, though. Something else that Gavin had promised him.

“I don’t hear any bells. You gonna be good bait, or should I throw you out into that hallway and let you fend for yourself?”

Gavin moaned and slid his mouth as far down as he could, bells ringing.  The next few bobs of his head were quick, each warm wet movement accompanied by a jingle. 

Jeremy’s breath was growing heavy.  “Th-there we go.” He lifted the gun away from Gavin’s head, aiming it at the open door.  Silently praying for a killer to shoot. “You keep that up, now. Play some pretty music for me to fuck you to.”

Through the com, Ryan made a strained noise.   _ “Sh-shit.” _

Jeremy smiled.  “Jealous, Ryan?”

_ “Nnnh.” _

“Shhh, just memorize how this sounds so you can whack off to it later.” Jeremy moaned into the mic, grabbing a fistful of Gavin’s hair. “... Or whack off to it right now, if you’re feeling brave.  I’m sure the killer would understand.”

_ “Fuck.” _ Geoff’s voice, sounding almost reverent.  _ “Some people get all the luck. And weapons.” _

The sweet warmth of Gavin’s mouth was lulling Jeremy, coaxing his gun to drift down.  The sudden sound of footsteps made it snap up again. His finger tensed on the trigger as Michael stepped around the corner.

“Whoa --”  Michael stepped back with his hands up, but there was a big grin on his face.  His eyes were on Gavin, not the gun. “Heh, my bad. Don’t let me interrupt.”

Jeremy tugged on Gavin’s hair, sliding his mouth up and down, making the bells ring.  He never took his eyes off Michael. “Oh, don’t worry, you won’t. Enjoying the show?”

“Mmh, yeah.”  Untroubled by the gun, Michael leaned against the door frame.  “He’s good, right? Man, I love that view. Don’t worry lil’ J, I’m just here to watch.”

Gavin whimpered around Jeremy’s dick.  Fuck, it was hard to keep his gun steady with that warm pliant  _ sucking  _ wrapped around his cock, desperate and willing.  “Nnh -- Y-you can watch, but I’ll shoot you down if you get any closer.”

“Hey, that’s your privilege, you got the gun.  See, the rest of us can only steal a few moments with our favorite pretty boy before the risk starts to outweigh the reward.”  Michael let out hungry breath. “He’s all soft and scared and fuckable, right? Fuckin’ tempting. But with those jingly bells, he’s just bait for the murderer.”

“Mmmh --”  Jeremy’s breath hitched as Gavin’s mouth sunk down low.  “Murderbait, huh? I like that.”

“But  _ you _ ...you’re armed. You can take your time. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to stand over here and live vicariously.”  Michael’s hand was drifting to his dick, a brief squeeze through the denim. “Do me a favor, lil’ J. If someone comes up behind me with a knife, shoot ‘em for me, yeah?  Cause I’m about to be distracted.”

Jeremy groaned, his hand tightening in Gavin’s hair.  There was a not-so-small temptation to waste his one bullet by firing it square into Michael’s chest, throw away his chance to win the game so he could watch a man die while getting his dick sucked.  He’d probably end up in handcuffs, but god… it almost felt worth it.

“ … S-sure thing,” he managed finally.  He didn’t squeeze the trigger.

Michael settled into place against the wall, palming himself through his jeans. Pressing with the heel of his hand. Rolling his hips forward. When the first moan slipped through his lips, Jeremy gestured a warning with the gun.

“Hey. You enjoying the show or putting one on?”

“Oh, sorry, Jeremy. Am I distracting you?” Michael ran a hand down his neck, his chest. Past his stomach, settling on the obvious bulge in his jeans. “Didn’t mean to detract from the image of a hot guy blowing you with...a hot guy thinking about blowing you.”

“S-sorry, you’re gonna h-have to get in line.”

“Oh, I am.” Michael’s grin was sharp. Taunting. “You wanna include me in your little porno, Jeremy, I’m right here. Always good to  _ please _ the person who has the gun, if you catch my drift.”

Jeremy’s hand tightened reflexively in Gavin’s hair, making him whimper.  Fuck, it felt so  _ good,  _ and the power trip of having an obedient little fucktoy was going right to his head.  The situation was rapidly getting away from him. “A-are you  _ trying  _ to talk me off?”

“Need a second mouth worshipping you?  I can come over there. You know I’m good for it.”  Michael slid his com off his ear, keeping his next offer private. “I could rim you.  Slide my tongue into you while Gavin sucks you. Both of us at the same time. I could fuck him for you, after he’s done. You keep that gun pointed at the doorway, keep us both safe, and I’ll put on a nice little show. Anything you wanna see. You can even give me instructions.”

Jeremy’s hips jerked, his jaw clenching on a groan.  “F-fuck --”

Michael bit his lip, and the hand on his dick squeezed tighter.  “Or, hey, if you get bored of Gavin, blow his brains out and I’ll take over -- ”

Fuck, that did it. Bright, sweet pleasure punching him right in the gut, gasping for air, lowering his gun arm for just a moment-

Michael was on him before he’d even finished coming, cock still throbbing in Gavin’s mouth as his arm was shoved back, held firm against the wall, Michael’s face just inches from his as a hot, sharp pain ripped across his throat --

“Lights out, lil’ J.  You’re still shit at spotting a killer, huh?”

\----

This time, Jeremy awoke in the clone pod not with a slow breath, but with a gasp.  He sat up, wincing, and slipped a hand between his legs.

_ That _ felt fucking weird. Jeremy gripped his balls with a displeased groan. The transition from mid-orgasm to perfect physiological neutral was...not  _ painful _ , exactly, but fuck. Unpleasant.  Like a song being cut off right before the creschedo.  Like having a thrilling dream interrupted by the dull drone of an alarm clock.

“Fucking  _ rude _ , Michael,” Jeremy grunted.  

He hauled himself out of the clone pod, approaching the screen without bothering to put on clothes. The footage showed Michael standing over Jeremy’s corpse, a smug grin on his face as he pinned Gavin’s arm to the floor with his boot.  The loaded gun, dropped from Jeremy’s dead hand, was now quivering in Gavin’s grip, but with the weight of Michael’s boot he couldn’t lift it. 

_ “Sorry to interrupt right at the good part, Gavin.  Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you. Jeremy was being too fuckin’ gentle with you anyway.” _

“Nnh --”  Jeremy’s jaw twitched, and a fresh throb of excitement shot down his spine and straight to his dick.  “Y-you fucking  _ asshole,  _ Michael.”

\----

This round of Murder was not going well for one Gavin Free.

Jeremy’s dropped gun trembled in his hand, pinned between the concrete floor and the rubber treads of Michael’s boot.  The bells around his neck jingled with each frightened heaving breath.

“Drop it, Gav.  Toys don’t use weapons.”  

Gavin lifted his pleading gaze, fingers aching under the grind of Michael’s treads but unwilling to release the gun.  “D-don’t suppose I could tempt you with a blowjob?”

“While you’ve still got Jeremy’s come on your chin?”  Michael slid his com back on, giving Gavin a cocky wink.  His next words were the first he had spoken into the mic since killing Jeremy.  “Messy little slut, trying to cheat your way out of your punishment.”

Over the com, Geoff chuckled.   _ “Sounds like Gav.” _

“Ha, yeah.”  Michael ground his boot down against Gavin’s hand, and he finally released the gun with a sob.  “Gotta get my fun in before the killer finds him, right?” 

_ Killer. _

Jeremy’s body wasn’t yet cold, lying in a bloody heap on the floor.  Gavin’s gaze jumped to it, his mouth opening briefly, a hesitant breath in his mic.  Michael flicked the knife, and a few drops of Jeremy’s blood flew off. His next words were slow and deliberate.

“So… you still gonna blow me, Gav?  Or have you got something to say?” 

Gavin whined.  His gaze dropped to the knife, then lifted submissively to Michael’s face.  Dead now, or dead later. He knew which option he’d take.

“ … I-I’ll blow you.”

“Good bitch.”

Michael’s boot lifted off of Gavin’s hand and he kicked the gun away.  Miserably, Gavin watched it skitter off into the rubble, out of his reach.

“Awww, what’s wrong, Gav?  Want that barrel back in your pretty mouth?”  Michael smirked as he grabbed Gavin’s hair, already undoing his jeans.  “I could hear it over the com when lil’ J made you blow his gun. Don’t worry, Gav, I haven’t got a gun for you to suck.”

Once again Gavin’s gaze was drawn to the bloody knife that dangled from Michael’s hand.  The unspoken threat hung in the air; Michael had something a lot worse than a gun he could shove down Gavin’s throat.

“Open wide.”  

As soon as Gavin obeyed, Michael slid into his mouth with confident ownership, knowing he wouldn’t resist.  _ Couldn’t _ resist.  Gavin’s last chance to rat out Michael vanished as his mouth was plugged, any potential cry for help smothered.  He whimpered, tonguing Michael’s dick like his life depended on it, trying not to look at the dripping knife.

_ “Anyone dead yet?” _

It was almost surreal to hear calm voices over the com. 

_ “Nope.” _

_ “Still here.” _

_ “I’m still around.” _

Geoff sighed.   _ “All right, guys, let’s at least pretend we’re playing a normal round of Murder.  Whoever the killer is, get the fuck busy.” _

“Yeah, just -- nnnh -- don’t kill Gav until I’m done with him,” Michael added.

_ “And when are you gonna be done with him?”  _ Jack’s voice was eager in his ear.  _ “Just gonna touch a little and move on? Or are you gonna risk it?” _

“Hmm. What a strange question to ask, Jack. One would almost think you were searching for victims.” 

Gavin’s whine of frustration was muffled by Michael’s cock.  

_ “Hey, I just wanna know when he’s up for grabs again.  Emphasis on ‘grabs.’” _

“You know what, Jack?  I’m a risk-taker.” Mercifully, Michael let go of Gavin’s hair, giving his collar a yank instead.  “And I sure wouldn’t say  _ no _ to a piece of that shameful ass, not when it’s so goddamn  _ available.   _ Get your lube out, Gavin. Finger yourself.”

Gavin slid his mouth off, wincing, cupping his aching jaw. “What makes you think I’ve got lube?”

“Gavvy, if you walked in here with that thing around your neck, and you  _ didn’t _ bring lube, then you  _ deserve _ a hard, dry fuck.”

“...I’ve got lube.”

“That’s what I thought. Take your pants off, too. I wanna  _ watch _ .”

Gavin stripped on the floor with shaking hands, taking the lube from the pocket of his dress pants before letting them fall in a pile on the floor, crumpling in a limp heap.   _ Limp heap.   _ Just like Jeremy had.

The thought dragged Gavin’s gaze back to the body, lying in a puddle of blood.  No protection. No savior. Just a killer with a knife and a boner, determined to slide at least one of them inside him.  The press of the com in Gavin’s ear, the mic against his cheek, was a dangerous temptation. Crying “killer” would only take a heartbeat, would surely lose Michael the round, but it would be the last thing Gavin did.

If Michael was willing to stall, Gavin was willing to stall with him.  Keep pleasing the killer, keep breathing. Keep hoping.

His friends had better be looking for gun parts...

The first slick touch of Gavin’s own fingers drew a startled gasp from him.  _ Fuck _ , he was hard, had been hard since Jack had put the collar on him. So many taunts, and touches, and  _ grabs _ , with no relief in sight. He slid his fingers in deep, sighing, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. Any kind of touch was a relief, but it was also oil on the fire.  _ Fuck _ , but he needed to come. 

Keep pleasing the killer, keep breathing, keep chasing the pleasure and praying he’d get to come before his throat was slit...

“Taking your time, Gav?” Michael knelt over him, elbows on his knees, knife pointed lazily in the general direction of Gavin’s chest. “You’d better hurry up, before I decide that you’re  _ done _ .”

Gavin shivered at the implicit threat, the warning that Michael didn’t particularly care if he was comfortable. He pulled his fingers out, added more lube, pushed in three. Trying to make himself as slick as possible. He’d been fucked hard and rough before, without being ready, and it was a  _ good _ , toe-curling kind of pain, provided there was lube.

Michael watched him hungrily, predatory gaze making both his heart and his fingers work faster. It wasn’t long before Michael caught his wrist, pulled his hand away, moved Gavin’s fingers to paint the remaining lube along Michael’s exposed cock.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” He shifted, lined himself up, one hand on Gavin’s thigh, other holding the knife to skin, a cold, sharp promise. “Gotta be quick, never know when the killer could  _ strike _ .”

The words went straight to Gavin’s dick, burning hot inside him at the same instant that Michael  _ pushed _ . “Oh f-fuck-”

This was no quick grope in a dark hallway. This was intentional, deliberate, forceful  _ sex _ . Michael slid into him,  _ all the way _ into him, full and thick and  _ real _ . The payoff to the tease. Claiming thrusts falling quickly into a punishing rhythm that gave him  _ exactly _ what he needed.

“Oh, god, M-Michael-” Gavin slumped back against the floor, no longer trying to hold himself up, not caring to keep an eye on the knife.  Each movement rattled the bells, a soft chime. “T-that’s- y-yes-  _ aah- _ ”

All the pent-up tease, the threat, the anticipation, knowing that every single crew member had been wanting to pound him into the floor  _ just like this  _ from the moment they saw the collar on him -- it was all cresting at once, overwhelming him, even before Michael’s palm pressed down against his twitching cock with the blade still gripped in his fist --

“Ahh--!”  

The pleasure punched the air out of him, cock throbbing under Michael’s hand before he had even realized how  _ close  _ he’d been this whole time.  Michael slowed, but didn’t pull out as Gavin went boneless under him, chest heaving, dress shirt splattered with his own come. 

“Damn Gav.  That collar makes you easy in more ways than one, huh?”  Michael flicked a glob of come off the knife, then pricked the blade gently against Gavin’s cheek.  “Should I keep using you, or you wanna call it a night?”

It was subtle, but there was a shift in Michael’s voice, a shift that Gavin had heard plenty of times before.  This time, it wasn’t a threat; it was an offer. A chance to tap out of sex if Gavin wasn’t up for more.

Gavin caught his breath, staring dizzily up at Michael.  Despite the sharp knife against his cheek and the reek of blood filling the room, everything felt soft.  Relaxed. Spinning. He didn’t want to get off this ride. He didn’t want to tap out.

“ … Keep using me,” he breathed.

Michael smirked.  “You got it.”

The next roll of hips stole what little breath Gavin had regained.  His back arched off the floor as Michael grabbed his thigh, pumping into him.  The knife never left his body, a constant threat, a constant  _ enticement,  _ reminding him that any heartbeat could be his last.

Gavin didn’t look up at the sound of footsteps approaching.  Michael didn’t look up either, didn’t stop thrusting, didn’t bother to hide his knife.

“Well, now that’s a sight.” 

Michael gave the door a nod.  “Hey, Jack.”

“What’cha doin’?”

“Oh, just- nngh-” A sharp thrust made Gavin gasp, but he didn’t resist, limp and pliant under Michael’s blade. “Fucking this naughty boy until his bells ring.”

“I see, I see.”  Jack put her hands on her hips.  “Well, that’s Jeremy’s dead body over there and you’re covered in blood, so… I take it you’re the killer?”

Geoff’s voice was sharp over the com.   _ “Holy shit, Michael’s the killer?  Jeremy’s dead?” _

Michael snickered.  “Ya caught me.”

“And it looks like  _ you _ caught Gavin,” Jack mused.  Her gaze trailed over him. “Say, you’re not using his mouth, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not.”

Jack pressed two fingers to her lips, her gaze dropping to the gun where it lay in the dust.  “…Mutual truce until orgasm? You don’t stab, I don’t shoot, we both enjoy Gav?”

“A chance to watch Gavin get facefucked?  Fuckin’  _ deal _ .”

“Glad to hear it!”

_ “Oh come on, guys!  Remember how I said we should at least pretend this was a normal game?” _

_ “Mmmh, shut up, Geoff.  Some of us are trying to jack off and your commentary is a mood-killer.” _

_ “Good fucking lord, Ryan!” _

Gavin struggled to keep his upside-down view of Jack in focus as he watched her scoop up the gun, watched her stride towards him.  He was still shuddering and twitching under Michael’s movements, his head still reeling from the sweet high of getting off when you might be about to die.  The gun looked good dangling in Jack’s hand, a tantalizing promise of safety, of rescue, sharp urgency that tugged at his dizzy mind. He didn’t want to believe it.  Didn’t dare. He felt so good, so  _ defeated,  _ almost ready to feel Michael’s knife slide into him...

Damn, the view of Jack was good from down here, those smooth strong legs and those  _ bloody  _ short shorts.  She popped open the top button of her bright floral shirt, then the next, then the next.  Gavin’s breath was quickening. By the time her bra was exposed -- fairy-dust gossamer and lace -- he was panting again.  When she holstered the gun in her cleavage, he moaned and his hips twitched.

Michael’s breath was just as heavy.  “Nnnh -- th-that’s cheating.”

“What?”  Jack gave the gun a needless adjustment, sliding it down until the grip was almost buried between her breasts before dragging it back up.  “Just getting comfy. Not distracting you, am I?”

Gavin almost whined as Jack started tugging down her tight short shorts.  Pretty thighs and, oh god, flushed cock bouncing out of the tight fabric. Gavin’s mouth was already open, eager and panting, before Jack knelt down beside his head.

“There you go, Jingles.”  She cupped the back of his head, pulling it into her lap.  Her thumb slipped into his open mouth as though to hold it in place, as though he would dream of closing it.  “Go ahead and finish what you started.”

“Mmmh-” 

Gavin’s groan was muffled as Jack slid into his mouth.  No hesitation, just  _ want _ , as desperate as he’d been for the past few hours.

Well, maybe not  _ quite _ that desperate. 

Michael’s arousal was clear in his breath, in the way his hips were jerking faster, drawing whimpers from Gavin that were muffled by the familiar fullness in his mouth.  Fuck, this wasn’t a tease either, not like what Jack had done earlier. She’d only claimed his mouth for a moment, just enough to remind him who he belonged to, before leaving him dizzy and panting, but this time Jack fully intended to use him until she came.  

God, he was getting hard again.

“Mmm…”  Jack hooked two fingers through the collar, giving it a little tug.  “His throat always feels  _ tighter  _ with the collar.”

“Nnnh -- g-good fuckin’ view.”

“Oh?  You like what you see, Michael?” Jack’s voice was light, unconcerned. She lifted her hand, teasing her fingers along the grip of the gun.  “I hope so. Might be the  _ last _ thing you see.”

“You questioning my stamina?” There was a dangerous edge to Michael’s voice, not so much for Jack as for Gavin.  “Seems I’m in a perfect position to prove you wrong.”

“Mmm.” Jack’s hand moved again, like she was  _ petting _ the gun, and Gavin whined at the sight. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Michael’s knife trailed along Gavin’s thigh.  “Hey, Gav. If you can make Jack come before I do, I’ll play with you just how you like and then I’ll let you go.  Give you another chance to run. All you’ve gotta do is suck the  _ life  _ out of her.”

Gavin’s hips twitched at the words, his moan muffled by Jack.  Above, he could hear her breath hitch. For the first time, her thighs tensed.

“Deal’s a deal, Jack.”  Michael’s voice was sweet and vicious, and his knife flicked, leaving a bloody smear on Gavin’s thigh.  “I’ll let Gavin finish you before  _ I  _ finish you. _ ” _

The sound of a third voice made Gavin jolt.

“Mmmh.  _ This _ is quite a sight.”

Just barely visible over Jack’s thigh, Gavin could see Ryan standing in the doorway, assessing the scene with obvious interest.  His gaze flicked to the bloody knife in Michael’s hand, to Jeremy’s body, and finally to the gun tucked in Jack’s bra. He leaned back against the door frame, thoughtfully pressing his knuckles to his smile.

“Damn, Jack.  Sharing a toy with a killer?  You’ve got some balls.”

Jack’s hand cupped Gavin’s jaw, coaxing it open wider so she could slide in deeper, her painted nails gently pressing into his skin.  “Sure do, Ryan. Bigger than yours.”

“Ouch.  Walked into that.”  Ryan rubbed his thumb over his lip.  “ … Guess this is a stand-off, huh? Seems I’m under-equipped.”

Michael smirked.  “Come on, Ryan, help yourself.  There’s plenty of Gav to go around.  You think I’m gonna slice you while Jack’s got the gun?”

“Oh, that’s exactly what I think you’ll do.  Jack’s a quick draw, but I don’t think she can blast you  _ before  _ you slit me.”

Michael trailed the knife over Gavin’s chest, letting it click against each button on his shirt.  “…That’s not gonna stop you, though, is it?”

Gavin could hear Ryan’s breath hitch.  It was a moment before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was low.

“... I want to run my hands over his body and feel how tense his muscles are, with the two of you spit-roasting him.”

“Well then.” Michael’s fingers dug into Gavin’s thigh as he pushed  _ deep _ . “C’mon over.”

Ryan drew in a hungry breath as he crossed the room, falling to his knees beside Gavin’s body. Hands hurrying to unbutton his shirt, sliding under it,  _ gripping _ him.  Gavin shuddered, his moans muffled by the cock in his mouth and Jack’s tight grip on the collar.  His hips jolted when Ryan’s hand brushed his cock, his body tensing around Michael’s thrusts, bells on his collar jingling.

“Mmmh -- do that again, Ryan, makes him so fuckin’ tight.”

Ryan’s fingers dug into his chest, as though they wanted to press inside him, rough and greedy.  Feeling every flex, every moan, every minute movement as Gavin tried in vain to compensate for the hungry push-pull of Jack and Michael.  He whined and his hips bucked when Ryan gave his cock a slow, agonizing  _ stroke. _

Someone sighed.  Gavin couldn’t see the door -- not through the press of bodies all touching him and grabbing him and  _ fucking  _ him, and god he wouldn’t have picked his head up if he could -- but he recognized that exasperated sigh.

“We’re not playing Murder anymore, are we?” asked Geoff.  He didn’t quite succeed at sounding disappointed.

Michael laughed.  “Aren’t we?” The knife pressed down and Gavin jolted, a muffled cry around Jack’s cock.  “Last I checked, I still had a knife. But don’t worry, Geoff, I’ve got an arrangement with Jack.  Come get some Gav while he’s hot.”

Geoff chuckled.  “ … Well, if you insist…  Has he got any fuckable parts available?”

“Y’know what? He’s doing fuck-all with his hands. Hey, murderbait! Give Geoff a handjob as atonement for your sins!”

He couldn’t keep track of them all. Geoff was kneeling down on his other side, sound of a zipper before his hand was being dragged sideways, wrapped around a hot, hard length.  He could hear Ryan’s breath growing heavy, feel a firm hand on his other wrist dragging his hand up a firm thigh.

“C’mon, Gav, you’ve got two hands.  For now.”

Gavin groaned when his hand was slipped into Ryan’s pants.  Hands on his thighs, hands on his face, on his chest and his arms and god somewhere in there was the  _ knife,  _ pressed against his tense belly, sharp edge  _ almost  _ breaking skin each time Michael thrust, but Gavin didn’t  _ care,  _ wanted Michael to thrust harder anyway -- 

“Hey… Michael.”  Jack’s hand slid away from him again, fingers dancing over the grip of the gun in her bra, then slowly closing around it.  “You know how we said we wouldn’t kill each other before the other finished?”

The knife twitched, as though reminded of the blood it could be tasting.  “Y-yeah?”

“You’re lookin’ kinda… close.”

Not even arousal could take the teeth out of Michael’s snarl.  “F-fuck off, Jack.”

“A deal’s a deal.  I’ll wait until you’re done.  It’s gonna be soon, isn’t it?”

“N-not if you don’t shut the fuck up, it isn’t-”

“Come on, Michael, we all heard the filthy things you said to Jeremy before his com went dead. Kind of a dirty trick, don’t you think?”

“If it’s s-so dirty, then why’re you-”

“‘Cause you inspire me, Michael.”  Jack teased her finger along the gun’s trigger.  “You make a good girl go  _ bad _ .”

“Oh fuck-” 

The knife broke skin on the last few hard  _ slams  _ of Michael’s hips as he came.  Gavin’s scream was smothered, his legs tightening around Michael’s waist in sudden fear as the knife pressed down and  _ down  _ into him -- 

The blade flicked away, the pain vanishing with it.  Gavin gasped, his mouth suddenly vacant, his spinning gaze registering the sight of Ryan’s hand locked over Michael’s arm, holding back the knife.  Ryan was grinning, but the aggression on Michael’s face had dissolved into panic as Jack slipped the gun out of her bra and --

“We weren’t done with him.”

\-- Fired. 

Michael slumped to the ground, limp body falling over Gavin’s legs. Jack set the gun down like it was the most normal thing in the world, climbed to her feet, and hooked her arms around Michael’s stilled chest. Dragged him away.

Gavin’s killer, limp as a rag doll, body joining Jeremy’s in the corner.  The killer was dead and he… he was still breathing. Wobbling, Gavin sat up, reaching up to touch his own collar.  Throat un-slit. 

“I...I’m not dead?”  A giddy laugh spilled out of him.  “Oh my god, I’m not dead! Christ, this never happens-”

“Yeah, don’t get  _ too _ excited, Jingles.” Jack knelt between his legs, a dangerous smile on her face. “‘Cause technically, the only way out of that collar is reincarnation.”

“ _ What _ ?! No! Give me the knife, I’ll fucking-”

Ryan’s hand locked around his arm before he could move, pinning him in place.  “Ah ah ah! Oh no you don’t.”

“We’re taking you back to headquarters in that thing. Maybe we can amend the rules a little…” Jack’s hands slid to his thighs, over his belly, smoothing over the shallow cut that Michael had made. Smearing his blood, drawing a small hiss of pain. “But you’re gonna have to  _ earn _ it...”

\----

Jeremy’s face was a mere foot from the screen when he saw Michael’s knife move, the first sweet flash of red as it pressed into Gavin’s skin.  He was panting, breath steaming on the pixels when Ryan’s hand locked around Michael’s wrist. He could see the savage excitement in Ryan’s eyes, the sudden fear in Michael’s.  He could see Jack slip the gun out of her bra, aim it point-blank.

_ “We weren’t done with him.” _

The sound of the gunshot made Jeremy gasp, made his dick twitch in his hand.  Fuck,  _ that  _ was satisfying.  Almost felt like payback for what Michael did to him earlier.  He wished he’d been the one to pull the trigger.

Payback… now that was a thought.  Jeremy turned his gaze to the wall of clone pods.  In about a minute, Michael would be waking up in this very room.  Sleepy and vulnerable and so  _ available  _ without any clothes to get in Jeremy’s way.  Sweet, temping revenge-bait. Jeremy couldn’t hold back a groan as he crossed the room, rifling through the shelves for some lube.  He’d have to act quick.

Being ambushed with sex was something that had come up during the discussion of boundaries, and it had been a hard yes from every single crew member.  

“Give me a verbal warning and wait for eye contact,” Geoff had said.

“Nothing penetrative without foreplay,” said Jack.

Michael had merely given a thumbs up.  “Scare the shit out of me. I’ve got a fuckin’ safeword if I don’t like it.  But I’m gonna like it.”

The lube bottle popped open in Jeremy’s hand.  The first chill, slick touch on his dick made his breath hitch.  Fuck, he  _ needed  _ a warm body to pump into.  Time to scare the shit out of Michael.

The wall hummed softly, and a pod began to slide out.  Jeremy hopped into it as soon as the lid opened, kneeling over his not-yet-reincarnated teammate. One hand on his throat, gentle. Not squeezing just yet. Other hand between Michael’s legs, pressing his slick cock against the clone’s unresisting hole. It was tempting to squeeze inside right now, bury himself in that pliant body.  Let Michael take his first breath with a cock already inside him. God, he could just picture that first expression of hazy shock, the way Michael would  _ squeeze  _ as he realized he was getting fucked...

Jeremy pushed the urge away, leaving his dick where it was, nudged up between Michael’s legs.  He wanted a moment first, a chance to look Michael in the eye, to make sure. 

Waiting. Watching. Any second now…

The body under him took its first breath, a slow, easy pull of air into fresh lungs, calm and unhurried.

And choked off by Jeremy’s squeezing fingers.

Michael’s eyes flew open, body jerking under him. Fuck, there was the shock and fear he wanted to see.  It felt  _ good _ . 

“Good morning, asshole.” Jeremy pushed, just a little, tip of his cock just breaching Michael’s hole, like a stern finger held in his face. “Think you owe me something, yeah?”

Michael’s newly-activated lungs were already heaving.  “J-Jeremy-” 

He loosened his fingers, let Michael suck in a frantic breath. “Say it if you’re gonna. Tell me to stop. Tell me not to  _ take _ what you owe me.”

Michael panted under him, eyes wide with arousal. His cock was stiffening between them, new body beginning to heat up.  He didn’t say a word -- didn’t say “no” -- but his hips nudged down against Jeremy’s cock, just a hair.

Jeremy’s smile was toothy. “ _ Good _ .” 

The next push had him sliding inside, slick and easy, a few inches of tight warmth wrapped around him.  Michael gasped, hands tensing against the pod’s cushioning as Jeremy pushed inside.

“F-fuck, J- Ryan wasn’t lying-”

“Oh?”

“Y-you’re-  _ fuck- _ ” Another rough shove had him fully seated, as deep inside as he could get. “You’re  _ big _ .”

Jeremy  _ growled _ , leaning down to bite harshly at Michael’s neck, dragging a shocked sound from him. “Lubed you up first, cause that’s just how nice I am.  Feel that? Nice...and  _ slick… _ ”

“Y-yeah, it’s much ap-preciated-” 

His next thrust rocked Michael’s body, pushing him down into the soft cushion of the pod. Not bothering to start slow, to be gentle with his partner. He wanted Michael to  _ feel _ it, feel what Jeremy had done to him every time he moved. Walk stiff-legged and wincing until the others asked what had happened. Let them all know what you got when you interrupted Jeremy Dooley’s  _ fun _ . 

“Wasn’t done with Gav when you killed me.” He breathed the words against Michael's neck, hot and sharp between presses of teeth. “Didn’t get to finish. But that’s okay. You’re gonna make it up to me, aren’t you? Clear your debt before you’ve even stood on your new legs. Spent your first breath giving me permission.”

“F-fuck, Jeremy- I t-tried to wait til you were -- nnh, done --”

“Yeah?” Jeremy bit him again, deeper this time, hoping it’d bruise. “Well you fucked it up.”

“I-I’ll do better n-next time-”

“Know you will, Michael. Not gonna give you much choice. Not unless  _ this _ is what you wanna wake up to.”

It was getting easier to push inside, Michael’s body loosening up under his punishing thrusts. No longer trying to keep him out. Moving with him, incremental thrusts matching his. Rising up to meet him.

“You like this?” Jeremy fisted a hand in Michael’s hair, holding his head still, leaning over him like he was about to slit his throat. “You like it  _ rough _ , Michael? Like being ambushed?  _ Used _ ?”

“M-maybe- fuck - maybe you’re just  _ r-really _ fuckin’ good at it.”

Jeremy groaned against Michael’s exposed neck. “What’s the flattery for, huh? Hoping I’ll let you come? After you so rudely interrupted me when it was  _ my _ turn?”

“I- I t-thought you-”

“Thought I was finished? Doesn’t count, Michael. You  _ cut _ me off halfway through.”

“S-sorry-”

“Yeah.” Another bite, on the vulnerable skin where neck meets shoulder. “Yeah, you will be. Gonna mark you all up, put a pretty collar on you. Better not die before these heal, either. You don’t do your time with these bruises, I’m just gonna have to put ‘em back.”

Michael shuddered under him, eyes hazy with pleasure. “Y-yes sir.”

Another bite, on the opposite side. Jeremy dug his teeth in and  _ sucked _ , tugging on the skin. Trying to make it bruise. Michael gasped and squirmed under him, hard cock aching for something to  _ push _ against. 

“Think I should touch you?” Words murmured against the sweat-slick skin just below the collarbone, a second before he  _ bit _ . Michael cried out, beautiful pleasure-pain sound that went straight to Jeremy’s cock. “Give you what you need?”

“P-please-”

Another bite, mirroring the previous one. He stroked his tongue slowly over the tortured skin, pretending it was Michael’s cock. Mouthing at it, kissing and teasing. Dragging out gratifying noises of desperation. 

Fuck, it was too good. He was gonna have to make it quick. 

His last bite was just above the breastbone, connecting the marks to make a chain of bruises. Tormenting the skin with his teeth, just shy of drawing blood.  He reached between them, wrapped his hand around Michael where he was hard and wanting. Pumped him hard and fast as he was fucking him.

Michael grabbed at him as he came, nails scratching his ribs, his back. Marking Jeremy right back. And fuck,  _ fuck _ that felt good-

His hips slammed  _ hard _ against Michael’s ass, deep as he could get, coming inside him like a gun being fired. 

“Fuck, yes-” He rode the pleasure for one breath. Two. Three. Felt it wash through him, rise and fall and ebb. 

Complete.

Jeremy sighed, body going limp on top of Michael, perfectly satisfied.

Michael, who was shivering under him, in spite of the warmth of the pod.

Jeremy raised his head, looking down at him with concern. “You okay, man?”

Michael nodded quickly. “Y-yeah. I’m good.”

Something about the words didn’t quite ring true. Jeremy frowned, thinking back. Michael had stepped into the heart-pounding game of Murder.  Killed Jeremy. Fucked Gavin. Been murdered. And woken up to one Jeremy Dooley ready to dom him to hell and back. Emotional whiplash was a not-unlikely possibility.

He smuggled back down against Michael’s chest, holding him gently. Careful hands on his shoulders, not pressing into any bruises. “I’m glad, but do you mind if we stay here a little longer? I could really use it.”

He  _ felt _ Michael exhale more than he heard it, a soft sigh of relief. His arms wrapped around Jeremy’s back, returning the hug. 

“Sure, J. That sounds good.” 

For a while, the only noise was the soft hum of the respawn machine.  Jeremy let his eyes close, listening to the gradually slowing thump of Michael’s heartbeat.  Eventually, he felt breathy words fan against his head.

“Hey, lil’ J?”

“Mmh.”  Jeremy mumbled into Michael’s chest.  “Yeah?”

“How pissed off would you have been if I’d cut you off halfway through that orgasm too?”

Jeremy frowned.  He sat up to look Michael in the eye.  “ … You wouldn’t.”

Michael’s cocky grin was back, and god was it a relief to see it.  “I mean, I only owed you  _ half  _ an orgasm.  You’re welcome for the other half. My treat.”

A laugh spilled out of Jeremy, half mirth and half sleepy contentment.  “ … Thanks for the half-orgasm,” he relented.

“Could you get me a fresh pair of glasses?  I can’t tell if you’re smiling or not.”

“Sure, man.”

Jeremy stretched, slow and unhurried, before hopping out of the pod. Movement on the screen caught his eye.

“Um...wow, Michael. Lemme grab you those glasses real quick. You’ve gotta see this.” 

Michael sat up in the pod, his hair a mess and his eyes blinking in the brightness.  “Whazzat?”

Jeremy swiped a glasses case off the shelf and pressed it into Michael’s hands before hauling him out of the pod.  Michael slipped the glasses on one-handed as he let Jeremy lead him across the room.

“All right, I can fucking see again, what’s -- “  Michael froze at the sight on the screen. “ … Oh.”

“They’re  _ still  _ going.”  Jeremy was awestruck.  “Fuck, dude, how is Gavin still keeping them all busy?”

“He’s talented like that.  What can I say?” Michael ruffled a hand through his own hair.  “I’m lucky he’s fuckin’ the whole crew, I could never keep up with it alone.”

“Is this… typical?”

“For a collar round?  Kinda. Depends on how the crew’s feeling.”

Jeremy didn’t have a response to that.  For a moment, he just stared at the screen. 

“Y’know, J,” Michael began, “they can do shit like this because they know Gavin’s boundaries. And each other’s. They know it’s not uncomfortable for anyone to be part of an impromptu orgy or get fucked with a knife to their throat or play ‘first one to orgasm is a fresh corpse!’ That whole scene that you saw- that we’re  _ still _ seeing- is because we’re honest about our boundaries.”

Jeremy was silent, watching thoughtfully as Gavin rode Geoff with single-minded determination, hard cock bobbing against his stomach. Beside them, Ryan was fucking Jack against the wall, making her hair and breasts bounce with each thrust. She had tucked the now-empty gun back into her bra, he noticed. 

Michael spoke again.  “You know how I told you earlier that I liked getting ambushed with sex? And then you ambushed me with sex?  And it was awesome? Communication is good shit. That’s what Geoff’s been trying to get out of you this whole time.”

“I just… there’s so  _ much. _ ”  Jeremy couldn’t look away from the screen.  “I dunno how to --”

Michael wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. Holding him, warm and safe.

“Come on, man, you don’t have to think of everything you  _ don’t _ want us to do to you. Maybe just some things that you  _ do _ . Give us some guidance, and we can figure the rest out as we go. Sound good?”

Jeremy returned the embrace, not taking his eyes off the screen. He felt oddly emotional, like looking into Michael’s face and seeing that much  _ care _ there would be a mistake.

“Yeah, Michael. That sounds good.” 

 


	5. New Zone Unlocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings for this chapter:
> 
> One of the more vivid deaths in this chapter involves a character slowly bleeding out and dying from blood loss.

No one ever said that being a member of the Fake AH Crew didn’t have perks.

In the Fake AH garage, Jeremy was bent over the open hood of a beautiful violet muscle car, elbow-deep in some of the most expensive car guts he’d ever touched.  The gorgeous machine was all his, courtesy of Geoff. Jeremy didn’t take her out much -- a heist was no place for a car you could see from space -- but he liked to keep her purring.

It was a great car for breaking the speed limit as he drove down to the beach, parking in front of the sunset, and fucking Ryan in the backseat.

Jeremy didn’t look up at the sound of footsteps approaching.  His tongue was between his teeth as he focused on his work.

“What’s up?” he called from under the hood.

Jack’s voice answered.  “Hey, Jer, everyone’s gathering for game night.  You in?”

“Yeah, just a sec —“  Jeremy let out a huff as he straightened up.  He yanked a grease rag out of his belt to wipe his hands on, turning around.  “Where should I… uh…” He trailed off as his eyes locked on Jack. “ … Whoa.”

Jack’s trademark Hawaiian shirt was nowhere to be seen, replaced by an eye-burning aqua bikini that left a jaw-dropping amount of smooth bronzy skin bare for Jeremy’s gaze.  She leaned against the garage door, backlit by the afternoon sun, a glossy pair of sunglasses on her head. The corner of Jeremy’s mouth was pulling up in a smile.

“… What game did you say we’re playing?”

“ _Murder,_ Jeremy.”  Jack’s smile was reproachful.  “The same game we always play.”

“Uh huh.”  Jeremy wiped his hands off on the rag slowly, letting his eyes wander down.   _Damn_.  “I’m not complaining, but isn’t that a little summer-y for the warehouse?”

“Oh, we’re not playing in the warehouse.”

That pulled Jeremy’s attention away from Jack’s chest.  “Wait, we’re not?”

“Nope!”  Jack flicked her hand at him, beckoning.  “If we only had one site to play on, it’d get boring.  New day, new map! Now c’mon, let’s get you in a swimsuit.”

Jeremy’s smile crept back.  “ … Wanna help me change?”

Jack snickered and turned, walking away.  “Ask me again once the game starts,” she called as she left.

Jeremy barely pulled his gaze away from her hips long enough to shut the hood of the car before following her out of the garage.

\----

“Isn’t the helipad the other way?”

“We’re not taking the chopper this time.”

“Oh.” Jeremy considered what that might mean, trying to guess where they might be going or how they might get there. He was drawing a blank.

His gaze shifted back to Jack’s body, hips swaying tantalizingly as she walked.

“ … Hey, Jack?”

“Mm?”

Jeremy hooked two fingers through the side of her suit bottom and leaned close to her ear. “If I get the knife, I’m cutting this suit off you.”

Jack returned the motion, snagging his belt and tugging. “Good.”

-

Jack’s car was neon yellow, with smooth custom seats patterned in green and red leaves. A single, delicate glass flower hung from the rearview mirror.

Jeremy could feel his spirits lifting as they drove, good day becoming impossibly _better_. The sun was warm on his face through the open roof. He had to shout to be heard over the rush of the wind.

“So where’re we going?  Abandoned shopping mall?”

“Nope!”

“...Impromptu surf shop heist?”

“Nope!”

Jack drove like the car was an extension of her body, weaving easily in and out of traffic at almost double the speed limit. Curving down towards the shoreline in the general direction that Jeremy would sometimes take Ryan.

“Just going to the beach, and this whole thing was a pretext to get me in the car?”

“Also nope!”

He soaked in the view of her, all pretty curves and smooth skin, hands steady on the wheel. “Aww!”

“We can go to the beach some other time, Jeremy.”

“Mmm. Do you _promise_?”

The car slowed as they reached the shoreline, navigating carefully through the snarl of traffic until they could pull into the wide, sunbaked parking lot adjoining the docks. Jack cut the engine, hopping out without a backwards glance. Jeremy scrambled to follow her.

“Are we getting on a boat?”

“We are!”

He followed Jack onto the well-worn boardwalk, past tethered boats of all shapes and sizes. He grinned as familiar faces ahead caught his eye.

As he got closer, the _rest_ of them caught his eye.

The whole crew was sprawled in the back of a speedboat, and _all_ of them were stripped down to swimsuits.  Jeremy forgot how to use words for a moment.   _Chest_ and _arms_ and _shoulders_ all vied for his attention.  The collar of bruises that he’d left around Michael’s neck were proudly on display.  A lot of ink was showing, from Geoff’s full sleeves to Michael’s isolated arm tats to the faint skull spanning Ryan’s chest. A lot of _muscle_ was showing.  A lot of thighs, a lot of…

… Fuck this was gonna be a good game of Murder.

“Ha… wow… ” Jeremy couldn’t stop his wandering eyes, couldn’t keep a shameless grin off his face as Jack brushed past him, stepping into the boat.  “I’m, uh, a little overdressed, I think.”

“Don’t worry, man.”  Geoff tossed something at him — something purple — and Jeremy snagged it out of the air.  “We’ve got you covered.”

Jeremy rubbed the aggressively purple fabric between his fingers.  It was clearly a swimsuit, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of material involved.  Jeremy snorted as he unfolded it.

“Looks a little _small,_ you —“  He stopped as he held it up, and a sudden smile broke across his face.  “Aww, you _guys!_ ”

This must have been a custom order.  The swim trunks were indeed small, and tight — they looked more like the short shorts Jack liked to wear than anything else — but across the groin were two bright orange words written in curly tattoo-style text:

_Packing Heat_

“Obviously, it’s a reference to how good you are with a gun,” Geoff explained, beaming.

“And nothing else,” snickered Ryan.

Michael flicked his hand.  “Definitely not a reference to your huge dick.”

“Not that you have the biggest dick in the crew or anything,” Gavin added quickly.  “We haven’t measured, so that’s an unknown factor. Anyone might have the biggest dick.”

Jeremy snickered as he jumped onto the boat.  The deck wobbled under his feet, the soft rocking of gentle harbor waves beneath the hull.  Jeremy cast a meaningful look at Gavin -- slender chest, flat belly, and finally down to the barely-there union jack speedo -- before giving him a meaningful smirk.

“Sure, Gav.  Could be anyone.”

Geoff untethered the boat and gave Jack a thumbs-up.  She revved the engine, and the speedboat began to glide away from the docks.  Jeremy wobbled and fell into a seat.

“So…”  He waved his new swimsuit.  “This boat is the changing room, isn’t it?”

Four eager smiles answered his question.  Jeremy laughed as he shrugged out of his purple jacket.

“New map, right?”  Off came the orange shirt, tossed on a seat with his jacket, then his shoes.  “Same rules?”

“Same rules,” confirmed Geoff.  “This map’s a little smaller, but we’ve played Murder here before and it works great.”

When Jeremy began undoing his pants, he found Ryan’s hand joining his own.  

“Need a little help?”

“Nnh —“  Jeremy’s breath hitched as Ryan’s hand fisted in his yellow pants, tugging down.  “S-sure… don’t let me stop you…”

Michael laughed.  “We’re not even on site yet, Ryan, christ.”

“But it’s such a _pleasure_ getting Jeremy out of his clothes.”  Ryan yanked Jeremy’s pants down his legs.  “Have you seen what he wears? He’s an oversaturated nightmare.  He really shouldn’t be allowed to wear anything if this is what he choses.”

“H-hey.”  Jeremy grunted as Ryan’s hand wandered, an unnecessary slide down his calf as the pants dragged down.  “Don’t knock the -- nnh -- purple-orange combo.”

“Easy, Ryan,” drawled Geoff.  “If you play with him too much, he won’t _fit_ in his new suit.  Down, boy.”

Ryan gave Jeremy’s thigh one more hungry squeeze before pulling back.  Jeremy’s face was hot as he kicked his pants off.

“Thanks for the _help,_ Ryan.”

“My pleasure.”

To Jeremy’s slight surprise, the crew kept their hands and their remarks to themselves as he slid off his boxers.  Notably, not their eyes. He thought about giving them a little tease — one slow stroke up his half-hard shaft, something to distract them once the game started — but he was too excited to try on his new suit.

It was a bit of a squeeze to get his dick in the tight material, but the crew seemed to have known what they were doing when they picked the size.  Tight it was, but perfectly comfortable as he flopped back in his seat. Damn, it looked good to see the words _Packing Heat_ stretched over that bulge.  What he wouldn’t give for a mirror.

“All right, so what’s the new map?”  Jeremy leaned back in his seat, feeling the wind whip over him as the boat began to pick up speed.  “An island?”

Geoff laughed and slung an arm over the rail.  “Please, lil’ J, you think I can’t afford something more expensive than an _island?”_

The speedboat pulled out of the harbor, freed at last from the maze of boats and buildings, and began to skim out over the open water.  A silhouette loomed out in the distance, and Jeremy’s jaw dropped.

“ … No way.”  He stood up, gripping the rail for support and staring at the distant vessel.  “That’s… Geoff, that’s a _massive_ yacht!  That’s yours?”

“That's _ours,_ lil’ J. That's the Fake AH yacht.”

“It’s gigantic!”

“Big enough to play Murder on!”

Without taking her eyes off the water, Jack called over the roar of the boat.  “Geoff. Yacht boundaries.”

“Right, right…”

Jeremy turned his attention back to Geoff.  “Yacht boundaries?”

“Uh…” Geoff sighed.  “Look, Murder is a messy game and blood stains happen, you might miss your target when you fire a gun, but like… don’t break shit on purpose, okay?  I like this boat. Respect the map, y’know?”

“Ah.  Got it.”  Jeremy sunk back down in his seat, leaning back and letting his gaze drift out over the water.  He worried his fingers in his lap, rubbing his thumb over each knuckle in turn. “Hey, uh… speaking of boundaries…”

No one in the boat seemed to visibly move, but there was a sudden shift in atmosphere.  Jeremy could tell without looking that everyone’s full attention was focused on him. He took a slow breath, eyes on his hands as he rubbed his fingers over each other.   _Just list some things you like._

“So I’m really into the taunting and the threats and all that.  The danger. The sudden deaths, the sense of being hunted, and uh… the sex.”  He let out a long breath. This was where it got complicated. “I don’t know if I’m… ready… for the kind of slow deaths you guys sometimes do with each other.  But I know I’m interested. And fuck, I like being _afraid_ that you might kill me slow.  So maybe kinda… ease me into it?  You know, give me little tastes and be ready to stop if it’s too much?”

Finally, Jeremy lifted his eyes, assessing the crew’s reaction.  There was no trace of a smirk, no teasing, just four intense gazes locked on him, absorbing every word.  Jeremy cleared his throat.

“ … That sound cool?”

“Yeah, of course!”  Geoff broke the silence, leaning forward to rest his tattooed elbows on his knees.  “Anything you need, J. We can start slow, you just say the word if it’s too much.”

Jeremy ventured a nervous smile.  “…Everyone’s being real fuckin’ quiet.”

Ryan pulled his gaze away and coughed into his hand.  “ … ’S really hot,” he mumbled into his knuckles, barely audible.

“ … Hot?”

Michael sighed loudly.  “Look, lil’ J, you’re a torture-virgin,” he explained.  “That inexperience? Hot as shit. We’re all being quiet because we’re all _hard_ and we don’t wanna interrupt your boundaries with our dicks.”

The rest of the crew all looked away, shifting guiltily in their seats.  Michael must have hit the nail on the head. Jeremy’s face was flushing as Michael’s words sunk in.

“ … O-oh.”

“You wanna go slow, we’ll go slow.”  Michael’s voice was calm, but Jeremy’s gaze had dropped to the tent in his swim trunks.  “We’ll ease you into it. Show you some stuff you might like. Hell, even Gavin knew to hold back with you, and he’s got the self-control of a volcano.”

Gavin beamed.  “I was so good!”

“Heads up, guys!” called Jack.  “Almost there!”

Jeremy twisted around in his seat.  Impossibly, the yacht looked even bigger up close, a goliath of dark teal and gold.  The speedboat began to slow as it approached the back of the massive ship, drifting close to a docking space.  A grin broke across Jeremy’s face as he caught sight of the curly white text that spanned the back of the ship.

“ … Fake AH Bang Boat?”  He laughed. “I see you went for subtlety, Geoff.”

Geoff lifted his hand in the shape of a gun, closing one eye as though aiming at Jeremy’s head.  “It’s about firearms, Jeremy. What did you think it was about?”

As the speedboat drifted closer, Ryan hopped off the front with the rope in hand and began tethering it.  Jack cut the engine and turned around to face the crew.

“Okay, kids!”  She leaned on the wheel as she spoke.  “This is the yacht, so I can’t place you at drop points like I normally do.  Everyone’s gonna run to their own starting point, we’ll check our boxes, and then we’ll press start.  Jeremy, you can hang out right here on the back of the ship if you like, since you don’t know where the other start places are.”

Jeremy shrugged.  “All right.”

“As always, no picking up gun parts before everyone’s ready!”  Jack flicked her finger at the crew. “I know it’s tempting, but try not to look for them as you’re walking to your start place.  Honor code, boys!”

“We know the rules, Jack,” complained Michael.  “Hurry up, I wanna kill people!”

Jack jabbed her thumb at the looming ship behind her.  “Coms, cuffs, and boxes -- grab ‘em and get out!”

There was a flurry of movement as the crew all obeyed, the boat rocking in the water as people jumped off.  Jeremy slipped his com onto his ear, box in his hand and cuffs hanging from a loop on his swimsuit. His gaze wandered as the crew began to disperse, ascending from the docking area to the main deck.

“Hey,” Jeremy called.  “Walk up those stairs slower.  It’s a good view.”

Michael paused, his hand on the rail.  “Who are you talking to?”

“All of you.”

When the last glimpse of legs had slipped from his view, Jeremy sighed happily and leaned against the wall, resting his back against the words _Fake AH Bang Boat._  He tapped his com.

“Testing, testing.  This is Jeremy with a boner.  How’s everyone doing?”

 _“Doing lovely!”_ chimed in Gavin.   _“Beautiful day for a game, lads!  This is way better than the musty warehouse.”_

 _“But not as spooky,”_ pouted Ryan.

“It really is a pretty day.”  Jeremy stared out over the sparkling waters.  “Damn, I should have put on sunscreen.”

Geoff chuckled.   _“Aaaah, ya can’t do that.  It’s the curse of the yacht map: you put on sunscreen, you definitely get killed.”_

 _“Yeah,”_ added Michael, _“if you defy the angry sun god by shielding your body from his skin-frying rays, he lets the killer get ya.  That’s how it goes.”_

Jack spoke up.   _“All right, everyone’s in place.  Pop your boxes open and let’s play Murder!”_

The latch made a satisfying _pop_ as Jeremy snapped it open.  The lid creaked, and Jeremy peered inside.

Empty.

His heart was thumping, excitement building as he set down the box.  Somewhere on this boat, one of his friends had just opened their box to the sight of a knife.  He wondered who it was, if the mere sight of it was enough to arouse them, if they were already planning how to use it.

_You’re a torture virgin.  That inexperience? Hot as shit._

Fuck.  Jeremy’s breath was starting to quicken.  

 _“Oh!”_ Gavin laughed in delight.   _“I’ve got the gun!”_

Michael groaned.   _“Great.  We’re saved.”_

_“Oh Jeremyyyyy… pretty dangerous out there, mate.  Might be I could give you a little protection. For a price.”_

Jeremy snorted.  Leaving his empty box behind, he began climbing the stairs that led to what he assumed was the main deck.  “I’m not coming near you, Gav.”

_“Ooooh, scared of the gun?  Jeremy’s the killer, lads.”_

“No, I’m scared of a power-mad idiot with a gun,” Jeremy shot back as he reached the top of the stairs.

The main deck was expansive, a beautiful stretch of polished reddish-brown wood, scattered with sinfully comfortable looking deck chairs.  Before him, the main body of the yacht towered, spiral staircases leading up to different floors. Jeremy’s awestruck gaze wandered across the glittering architecture, and finally settled on something that was almost at his feet.

“ … Oh my _god_.”

_“What?  Jeremy, you dead already?”_

“Uh, guys?”  A smile was breaking across his face.  “No one told me there’s an ass-fucking _jacuzzi_ on the yacht.”

Geoff scoffed.   _“Do you think the Fake AH Crew is a pack of amateurs?  Of course there’s an ass-fucking jacuzzi on the yacht.”_

_“ … Who’s ass-fucking in it?”_

_“Shut up, Ryan.”_

_“Who wants to ass-fuck in it?”_

Jeremy dipped his toe in the water, letting out a pleased hum.  Perfect temperature. There was a strong temptation to slide into that hot, bubbling water and lean back against the edge, let his eyes close, enjoy a few minutes of relaxed luxury.

Warm, soothing, tempting… Might as well be a honey trap.  Jeremy slipped his foot back out of the water and began crossing the deck, leaving wet footprints on the polished wood.  Ryan’s voice chimed through the com.

_“... What, no volunteers?”_

_“Ryan’s trying to get in someone’s pants, he’s absolutely the killer this round.”_

_“Come on now, just because I have an interest in getting laid doesn’t mean I have the ulterior motive of murdering someone.”_

_“See, Ryan, but it so often does mean that.”_

_“You’re such an untrusting bunch.”_

A crisp sea breeze whipped across the deck as Jeremy crossed it, but the day was so warm and the sun was so bright that the wind had no real chill to it.  Jeremy cast a smile up at the clear blue sky.

“Psst!”

A hushed voice to his right made him jump. Jack was beckoning to him from a shadowy doorway, protected from the sun by the sheer _height_ of the boat stretching upwards above it. Fuck, was that two stories or three?

She was holding her mic away from her face, he noticed as he approached. Not letting anyone else hear. Fuck, she was either the killer, or...

Against his better judgement, Jeremy followed her. Let Jack guide him through the doorway, into a cramped, wood-panelled storage room filled with coils of rope, towels, and pool noodles.  Damn if this wasn’t a perfect little corner for a murder...

And yet, Jeremy was still breathing, and there was no knife in Jack’s hands, at least not yet.  Maybe Jack wanted...something else. She certainly wasn’t cornering him. If anything, she was the one who was cornered, with her back to the wall and Jeremy’s back to the door.

“...I like where this is going,” Jeremy ventured, keeping his distance.  “But, uh… what are you doing?”

Jack took a deep breath, reached up, and slipped her com off her ear.  “Well… taking a gamble.”

She stepped close.  Jeremy’s heart thumped, his gaze jumping between her lips and her chest and her hands that didn’t _yet_ have a knife in them —

Holy _fuck_ did she look good, he didn’t fucking care if she had a knife or not.  Jeremy’s swimsuit was starting to feel dangerously tight.

“If you kill me now, no one’s gonna know it was you,” Jack murmured.  He could hear the fear, the vulnerability in her voice. “No one can see us here.  I can’t rat you out over the com. You could…” She swallowed. “W-well, you could probably do whatever you wanted, if you got a hand over my mouth first.  You could shut the door and no one would even know we were in here.”

She took another step, close enough for him to grab if he wanted to.  To push her against the wall. To slip out a knife, if only he fucking _had_ one, slide the blade under the aqua strap of her swimsuit top, tug and tug and tug until the fabric began to _rip…_

Jeremy couldn’t hold back a frustrated groan.  “F- _fuck_ , I wish I had a knife.”

Jack let out an audible sigh of relief, stepping back again.  “Hoooly fuck I’m glad that paid off. Jeremy, I really appreciate how predictably horny you are.”

“ _Hey_.”

“Am I wrong?”

“…No.”  Jeremy smiled.  “Be honest: how disappointed are you that I’m _not_ the killer?”

Jack gave his bare chest an appreciative glance.  “You would have looked good cutting my suit off,” she admitted with a smile.

Jeremy crossed his arms.  “So what was that ridiculous risk for, besides turning me on?”

“You know what you haven’t tried yet, Jeremy? _Alliances_!”

“ … Alliances?”

Jack’s hands were on her hips.  “Yeah, it’s a great tactic to improve the odds of the bystanders!  Well... unless your partner knifes you in the back, but that only happens, like...a third of the time. Is that right? Did I math that correctly? Whatever.”  She brushed the point aside. “The point is; you should team up with me! I’ll tell you where the boxes are and we’ll get a gun together in half the time!”

Jeremy frowned.  “ … Sounds great for you since you know I’m not the killer.  How do I know you’re not?”

“Because I could have killed you just now, while you were busy fantasizing about killing _me._ ”  Jack giggled.  “Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have a lot of places to hide a knife on me.”

Jeremy’s gaze roamed down before snapping back up.  “ … You sure don’t.”

“Oh, and Jeremy?”  Jack nipped her lip.  “When we get a full gun, I’ll let you shoot ‘em.”

 _That_ had his breath catching.  “D-deal.”

 _“Jeremy?”_ Geoff sounded suspicious.   _“Who are you talking to?”_

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”  Jeremy slipped his com off. “All right, you mentioned boxes.  Where should I go first?”

“The wheel room, second story towards the front.  There’s _always_ a box there, sometimes more than one.  Plus… a really beautiful view. You should take a moment to enjoy it.”

Jeremy smiled.  “There’s a really beautiful view right _here._ ”

Jack smiled, pressed herself against him, and pulled him into a kiss.  
  
God _damn_.  Jeremy’s hands were on her hips in a heartbeat, returning the kiss hungrily, pinning her close.  She felt good and she smelled good and she tasted good, sweet fruity chapstick against his lips. When her hips shifted against him, a happy little grind against the bulge in his suit, he moaned into the kiss.

Jack pulled back from his mouth, but not from his body.  She pressed a finger to her pink, kiss-slick lips. “You think this is a good view?” she whispered.  “Imagine how I’ll look on my knees while you’re gunning down the killer.”

... Oh _fuck_.

Jack giggled as she stepped away from him and slipped her com back on.  “Better get moving, Jeremy.”

She slipped past him, trailing her fingers along his arm before leaving the supply shed.  Jeremy watched her go with a flush in his cheeks and a boner that was damn near threatening to rip through his suit.  

\----

Outside, the sun glinted on every surface of the yacht.  As Jeremy stepped inside for the first time, the luxury followed him, quieter and warmer but no less rich than the exterior.  All surfaces were lush red velvet and expensive hardwoods, sea-themed relics and polished bronze. This was nothing like the dusty gloom of the warehouse.  Now _this_ was the way to play Murder.

Someone was wandering this yacht with the intent to kill him, but all the same, it was hard for Jeremy to not feel like he was living the high life at an expensive party.

Jack’s voice came through the com.   _“Jeremy, I’ve got my first gun part.  Have you found any yet?”_

“Not yet.”

_“That’s okay, honey. It’s still early.”_

Jeremy trailed his hand over the rich, textured wallpaper as he ascended a wooden staircase. The decor was becoming grander the further he ventured following Jack’s directions. The hallways wider, the carpet plusher, he must be getting close to...

Oh _wow_.

This must be the wheel room.

For a moment, Jeremy forgot about the game as he stepped into the lavish space.  The room had sloping windows on three sides, offering a stunning view of the sparkling sea and the not-too-distant city.  A big steering wheel dominated the center, hard wood with gold filigree, so artistic that Jeremy wondered if it had any real function of steering.  Around the wheel itself were tables slathered in maps and nautical devices that Jeremy couldn’t guess the purpose of.

As well as…

Glinting in the sun like amber sat a fancy crystal decanter, half-filled with what could only be something expensive and alcoholic.  A pair of highball glasses glittered next to it, as though to invite him. A smile was overtaking Jeremy. He crossed the room, shoes barely making a sound on the plush red carpet, until he could pick up the decanter and hold it up to the light.

“Hey, anyone wanna join me in the wheel room for a drink?”

An excited gasp from Gavin.   _“We’re gettin’ bevs?  Count me in!”_

 _“Wait, where did you find a drink?”_ Geoff’s confusion was overcome by a horrified gasp.   _“Is that my stash?  Did you find my stash?”_

Jeremy was smiling as he poured a drink into the highball glass.  “Your ‘stash’ was sitting out in the open, Geoff. Mmm, looks expensive.  You don’t mind, right?”

_“Why you little --”_

“What are you gonna do, Geoff?  Kill me?” Jeremy lifted the glass, swirled it once, and took a sip.  He let out a pleased sigh. “Worth it.”

_“I may not be the killer, but you just wait until I get my hands on you, you little punk!”_

Jack could barely speak through her laughter.   _“Jeremy, I swear I wasn’t trying to liquor you up, I didn’t know that would be out!”_

“Oh, like you’re complaining.”

 _“Okay, Jeremy, seriously --”_ Geoff sighed heavily. _“You can have a drink if you want, but you’d better be walking in a straight line or you’re off the field and you don’t play for the rest of the day.  Got it?”_

“Yes sir!”  Jeremy lifted the glass and downed the rest of the drink.  A sweet, tingling warmth was spreading through his belly, a perfect light buzz.  “Damn, Geoff, you’ve got good taste.”

_“Laugh it up now, we’ll see if I’m feeling generous enough to shoot the killer before they get their knife in you.”_

With a chuckle, Jeremy turned so he could lean on the table.  He jumped when he realized Ryan was in the room, giving him a skeptical look.

“J-jesus, Ryan --!”

“ … Murder shots, huh?”  Ryan gave the glass an assessing look.  “Well, it’s your funeral.”

Jeremy’s smile was creeping back to him, the buzz making it hard to frown for long.  He lifted the empty glass. “ … Wanna join me?”

“Nah, I’d rather keep my wits sharp.”

“Your loss.”  Jeremy shrugged as he set the glass down.  “Geoff keeps good shit.”

 _“Shut up,_ ” grumbled Geoff.

The warmth in Jeremy’s belly was spreading, a sweet giddy tingle that flowed up his spine and down his legs, buzzing in his fingertips.  Damn, he felt _good._ The lingering taste of expensive booze in his mouth was good, the view of the glittering sea was good, and _fuck_ did Ryan look good.  Broad shoulders and strong arms, skull tattoo _begging_ for some teeth marks.  

Jeremy’s smile was growing wider.  “Hey, Ryan.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna see me do something stupid?”

Ryan frowned.  “ … Uh --”

Without waiting for a response, Jeremy closed the space between them in three steps.  Ryan jolted back, fear flashing across his face as Jeremy leaned up and --

Pulled him into a deep, hungry, tonguing kiss.

Jeremy moaned into it.  He could feel the shock melting from Ryan’s body, dissolving into an appreciative purr.  It was quick, neither of them daring to continue it for long, but they were both panting when Jeremy pulled back.

“Huh.”  Jeremy wiped off his mouth as he stepped back.  “Guess you’re not the killer.”

Ryan ran his tongue thoughtfully over his lips.  “Mm, you were right. That _is_ good scotch.”

“Sure you don’t wanna join me for a drink?”  Jeremy was starting to chew his lip. God, this buzz felt _good,_ part booze and part adrenaline and part _Ryan._ “If you do, I’ll give you another —“

A loud thump against the window cut Jeremy off like a gunshot.  He spun around just in time to see Gavin’s body slide down the windshield and tumble out of view, leaving a bloody smear on the clear glass.  A moment later he heard another _thump_ as it hit the deck two stories below.

Jeremy stumbled back, his buzz gone, heart pounding in his throat.  “H — h-holy shit —“

“Gavin’s dead!”  Ryan’s voice was sharp with fear, his face pale.  “I-it wasn’t me or Jeremy, we were together when it happened!”

Michael’s shock was audible in his voice.   _“Nooo, Gavin!”_

 _“But -- but I was just with him!”_ protested Jack.   _“Fuck -- who got to him?”_

Geoff tsked disapprovingly.   _“Huh, how about that.  You covet my booze and you die horribly.  I’m not saying it was me, I’m just saying it’s karma.”_

The smear of blood was drying on the window.  Jeremy’s heart thumped in his throat.

“ … Jeremy?”

Ryan’s voice was tense, strangely hushed.  Jeremy tore his gaze away from the bloody window to see Ryan holding the mic away from his mouth.

“Jeremy, we need to split up.”

Jeremy shook his head.  “No no no, we need to do _not_ that!  That’s how people get picked off, Ryan!”

Ryan gestured angrily at Jeremy’s com until Jeremy got the hint and slipped it off.

“Fine,” Ryan hissed, “let’s say we stick together.  We can’t find gun parts as quickly, and if the killer finds us, they get to kill both of us.  In front of each other.”

Jeremy flung his arms out.  “And whoever dies second screams their name!”

“It’s a gamble, Jeremy.  By then there’s only two people left, and that’s assuming the killer gets to us before either of them.  Oh, and we’re both _dead._ ”  Ryan let out a breath.  “Listen, Gavin had the gun when he fell, and I didn’t hear it go off.  That gun is up for grabs. One of us should go get it, the other should look for gun parts.  How many do you have?”

Limply, Jeremy’s arms fell to his sides.  “ … None.”

“Okay, I’ve got three.  I can give you mine or I can go hunting for a full gun while you get Gavin’s.”

Jeremy turned towards the bloody window again.  He took a deep breath. “ … I’ll get Gavin’s.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  Cause if I was the killer, I’d be waiting by the gun.”

“ … That makes you _want_ to get Gavin’s?”

Jeremy yanked Ryan close and gave him another quick, burning kiss before pulling back.  “I’m a ballsy idiot, Ryan. Don’t die quick, yeah?”

There was a flush in Ryan’s cheeks.  “Y-yeah. Uh. You too.”

Jeremy took a deep breath and pulled away, leaving Ryan, the wheel room, and the dregs of his buzz behind.

\----

Jeremy didn’t know this ship well, but he was _pretty_ sure Gavin would be lying on the main deck, making a gorey mess on the expensive wood floor.  He rushed down staircases with his heart in his throat. It was hard to move quickly and stay quiet.  The killer could be around any corner, and the best he could hope for was to scream their name before he got a blade to the throat.

Jeremy was panting as he reached the main deck, more from fear than from running.  Things felt too exposed out here, and at the same time, there were too many corners for a killer to be hiding behind.  Jeremy peered around the edge of the wall, barely daring to breathe.

The body was right where he expected.  Gavin lay lifeless on the hardwood floor, throat and chest a mess of red splatters.  Next to him, almost sharing a pool of blood, lay…

Jeremy stepped back, the blood draining from his face.  “…M-Michael?”

No gun.  Two bodies.  Jeremy staggered back, pressing himself against the wall, his thoughts reeling.  Only three people left. Ryan, Jack, Geoff. One of them was the killer. Jeremy shut his eyes, trying to block out the reek of blood, trying to comb through every word that each one of them had said.   _Ryan, Jack, Geoff._

Jack could have killed him before, but didn't. It probably wasn't her. Ryan also passed up a chance to kill him, and furthermore, Ryan had been with him when Gavin died. … Or at least, Ryan had been with him when Gavin's body tumbled down the window. Fuck.

 _“Jeremy?”_ Jack’s voice was an insistent press in his ear.   _“Honey, are you still alive?”_

“Y-yeah, but --” Jeremy swallowed.  “Michael’s down.”

For the first time, Geoff sounded nervous.   _“W-wait, now Michael’s dead?”_

“The killer must have been waiting by the gun —“  Jeremy cast another horrified look at the carnage.  “Laid a f-fucking trap, and Michael walked right into it.  Shit, shit…”

 _“Do you see the gun?”_ Ryan pressed.

“I-I don’t see it —“

_“Keep looking, it has to be around there —“_

“Listen, shut up, right now I don’t trust _any_ of you,” Jeremy interrupted.  “Jack, Ryan, you both had a chance to kill me and you didn’t, but you’re still on thin fucking ice.  Geoff, I think it’s you but I can’t prove it yet, so just — don’t come near me.”

Geoff gasped.   _“What?  How is it me?”_

“Because I don’t think it’s Jack or Ryan but I don’t know!”

 _“Jeremy.”_ Jack’s voice.   _“I’ve got most of a gun.  If you can just find a few more boxes, we’ll be good.”_

Jeremy took a deep breath and pulled himself away from the gruesome sight.  “R-right. Right. I’ll keep looking, I’ll let you know when I have some.”

 _“Whoa whoa whoa, why are we trusting Jack?”_ Ryan sounded nervous.   _“I don’t trust Jack!”_

_“Wonderful, I don’t trust you either, Ryan!”_

_“You have to trust me, I was with Jeremy when Gavin fell!”_

_“When he fell or when he died, Ryan?”_

“Will you two stop --” Jeremy groaned as he ducked back into the deluxe body of the ship. “Listen, I think the important thing is that none of us trust Geoff.”

_“Why the fuck -- ugh!  Whatever, I’m gonna get a gun and I’m gonna prove all of you wrong!”_

“You do that, Geoff.”

\----

Jeremy’s unfamiliarity with this map was really starting to grate on his nerves.

The warehouse was slowly becoming familiar to him, but none of that knowledge helped him here on the yacht.  More and more, the ship was starting to feel like a gilded cage, adrift on the waves. Cramped and trapped. The map hadn’t looked too bad from the outside, but inside it was a maze, and only Jack’s directions -- punctuated regularly by Ryan and Geoff’s mistrust of her -- could guide him.  

_“Okay, take a left, there should be a room with a pool table.  Is there a box on it?”_

Jeremy ducked into the room that Jack had indicated.  The dark rec room smelled faintly of incense and cigars, and was dominated by a big beautiful pool table.  Sure enough, a metal box sat in the center of the worn green… already open.

“Empty.   _Again._ Fuck…”  Jeremy rubbed a hand over his head.  “God damn, I still don’t have a single part…”

Ryan let out a pleased breath.   _“Lucky you, Jeremy, I just got the magazine I need.  Once I find a grip, someone’s gettin’ gunned d --”_

The words cut off with a stomach-jolting _slice._ Jeremy’s hand flew to his com as the horrible noise was followed by a scream.

“Ryan!” He pressed harder against his com, as though he could reach through it and pull Ryan to safety.   “Ryan, what happened?”

Ryan choked out two words, high-pitched and strangled by terror.

_“IT’S JACK! IT’S JACK!”_

A chill seeped through Jeremy’s chest.  

Through the com came a sweet giggle.   _“Aww, Ryan, why’d you have to be like that?  I should have killed you silently. Like I killed Gavin.  And Michael.”_

Jeremy’s thumping heartbeat felt cold.  It had been Jack the whole time. Jack in the utility shed, tempting him, kissing him.  Jack guiding him to rooms that, now that he thought about it, never had any gun pieces in them.  Jack gaining his trust without ever actually helping him...

_“Shhh, Ryan, you’ll only die faster if you struggle like that.  Maybe you’d like to let Jeremy know what he’s in for, huh?”_

A clatter over the com. Sounds that meant someone was being slammed against something. Or _through_ something. Scraping. Pained gasps.

_“Well, go on, Ryan. Tell your boyfriend what I did to you.”_

_“S-she o-only half-slit me.”_ Ryan’s voice was trembling, from fear or pain Jeremy couldn’t tell. _“A-and she sh-shoved me in a closet.”_

 _“Mm-hmm.”_ Jack sounded _far_ too pleased with herself. _“And then she barricaded the door, and she walked away to find Jeremy while he stood, frozen in fear, listening to his paramore bleed out.”_

“R-Ryan, fuck-” Jeremy could hardly form the words, couldn’t _think_ through the cold, paralyzing horror that was pumping through him.  It was Jack the whole time, _It was Jack the whole time._ “W-where are you?  I’ll come find you…”

 _“And do what?”_ Ryan’s voice was alarmingly softer, already losing its panicked edge. _“Y-you gonna m-mercy kill me?  Jack knows what she’s d-doing, Jeremy, I’m not… nhhh… w-walking again after this… ”_

He could picture it too vividly, Ryan’s life pouring out between his fingers, a surgical cut designed to give him some _time_ before the shadows closed in.

“What the fuck; so I’m just supposed to listen to you die?!”

Ryan was gasping into the com, like he couldn’t draw enough air. _“Y-you’re supposed to...avenge me.”_

“A-avenge?  Ryan, I don’t have a gun yet --”

_“Nnh, shit…”_

Ryan’s voice was becoming soft, sleepy, slurred.  Jeremy pressed his com closer to his ear.

“Ryan?”

_“I’ve got… gun parts… d-don’t come get ‘em, s’a trap, I think… I think Jack’s here…”_

_“Awww, Ryan, you ruined it.  Don’t you want Jeremy to come kiss your last breath away?”_ Jack hummed thoughtfully.   _“Well, if he won’t do it…”_

A soft noise whispered through the com, a press of lips against lips.  Jeremy froze, heart pounding, waiting to hear a voice. Jack sighed as the kiss broke, but Jeremy didn’t hear a breath from Ryan.

 _“Good boy, Ryan,”_ she murmured.  There was no reply.

Jeremy licked his dry lips, trying to keep his breathing even. Jack was the killer. Jack had killed Ryan. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t-

“How...how did you…” Jeremy’s thoughts were racing. “In the supply shed, you didn’t have the knife-”

 _“Hid it under a seat cushion.”_ Jack’s voice was smug, eager to spill her secrets. _“No rule says the killer has to keep it on them. I came back for it once I had you convinced.”_

“And the gun, you- the gun was gone, but the killer can’t-”

_“I kicked it!  Like a soccer ball! See, the killer can’t pick the gun up, but giving it a little nudge? Totally allowed! It went skittering off under a deck chair. I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t see it.”_

“And you sent me to the wheel room…”

_“Because there’s never gun parts in there. At least, not that I’ve seen. Generally we try to keep the game away from the more critical parts of the boat.  And all the others I found, I just...tossed into the ocean. It’s a very convenient map for that.”_

The pieces were falling into place.  “You...you sabotaged me.”

 _“Why, yes I did! Welcome to Murder, Jeremy!”_ Jack’s laugh was no less sweet than it had been in the supply shed, when she had giggled after kissing him. _“Sometimes the knife in your back is metaphorical! Now, why don’t you tell me where you are, and I’ll come to you? Don’t worry. I’ll bring my knife this time.”_

Jeremy took a deep breath, weighing his options. He pressed his com against his ear, speaking with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Geoff?”

 _“Right here.”_ The sound of a third voice flooded Jeremy with relief. _“Just you and me now, huh?”_

“Geoff, do you have any gun parts?”

_“I might have a few. Why?”_

“Because I think I can get you a few more.  We need to meet up.”

_“Oh, what’s this?  The booze thief needs help from Geoff now?”_

“Come on, Geoff --”

_“Not even gonna beg?  A little ‘please, sir’ would go a long way.”_

“Geoff, seriously!” Jeremy hissed. “We are going to _die!”_

_“Exactly.  Hanging out with you is probably the most dangerous shit I could do right now.  Jack sounds real horny to get her knife into you, but good news is she’ll probably play with you long enough for me to find a gun.  No hard feelings, but you’re kinda fucked and I’m our collective last hope.”_

“God fucking -- ” Jeremy clenched his jaw and tried to keep his voice hushed.  “Do you _really_ think you can put a whole gun together before Jack catches you? What makes you think she won’t target you first so she can have me to herself?  Jack’s too fucking dangerous, we need to get a weapon _fast_ or she’s gonna slit you on your own goddamn boat.”

_“...You have a point.”_

“Damn right I have a point.” Jeremy was already moving, leaving the rec room behind. “Lay low and try to find me.  I think I know where I can get some more parts.”

\----

The sleek luxury of the yacht blurred past him.

Jeremy could hear the froth of waves below as he crept along the edge of the ship, torn between speed and silence. Gavin’s gun was vanished, but Michael’s body had been there too.  Michael might have found some parts before he died. Between that and Geoff’s parts, maybe it would be enough...

He braced himself for the sight that would greet him on the main deck, but it still made his stomach flip when he rounded the corner.

Fuck, fuck, he wasn’t used to this.  The sight of the familiar bodies on the floor made his head reel. The clean slash across Gavin’s throat had stopped bleeding, but there was so much blood on the floor that Jeremy would have to kneel in it if he wanted to loot Michael’s pockets…

Someone grunted, muffled and panicked, just to Jeremy’s left.  The sound sent a prickle down his spine. Jeremy spun towards the sound and his heart dropped.

Geoff stood just inside a narrow doorway, Jack’s hand over his mouth and her knife at his throat.  His face was pale with terror, but Jack smiled over his shoulder.

“Hi, Jer.  We’ve been waiting.”

Her knife slid across his throat.

Geoff made one more noise, smothered by her hand.  Jack traced the knife lovingly down his chest and kissed the side of his neck, then let his limp body drop to the floor.

Jeremy took one shaking step back, but his legs wouldn’t run.  Three bodies on the floor. A fresh pool of blood, spreading, creeping towards the dried ones.   _She’ll slit you on your own goddamn boat._

Jack ran her finger thoughtfully down her knife, smearing the blood.  “This was where you thought you’d find more gun parts, hm? Really shouldn’t have mentioned that over the com.”  She stepped over Geoff’s dead body, calm as the waters that lapped the hull of the ship. “Looks like Geoff was smart enough to figure it out too.  I figured he would be.”

“ … Why?”  Jeremy’s breath was heavy.  His legs wouldn’t move. “Y-you could have killed me before, when you had me alone at the start of the game.  Why’d you wait so long?”

“Because I want to save you for last.  Take my time with you. Sweetheart, you’re too tantalizing to waste as a first kill.”

“You…” The realization was creeping in now, the implication in the words. “You wanna k-kill me slow.”

“Within reason.” Jack was still advancing, bloody knife held loosely at her side. Her other arm extended towards him, like an offering. A rescue. “You named some boundaries. I listened. If you need to make new ones, I’ll listen to those too.”

She was close now. So, so close. Waiting, arm extended. Not touching him yet.

This was end game.  Defeat was what had Jeremy’s legs locked in place.  He could run, and probably get Jack’s knife in his back before she slit his throat, just like the others.  Or he could see what she would do to him. He could find out what Jack’s end game was like.

Jeremy took a deep breath. Stepped forward. Closed the gap. Jack’s hand settled on his shoulder, accepting his surrender, and her beautiful face lit up in a smile.

“Don’t worry, Jeremy. We’re gonna do this right.”

\----

Jack’s hand on his shoulder was comforting, guiding him smoothly through the ship, but firm enough that Jeremy knew those fingers would _tighten_ if he tried to run, pretty painted nails digging into him as Jack threw him to the ground, drew the knife-

...But he wasn’t going to run, was he?  Dizzily, Jeremy followed her, letting Jack guide him.  He wasn’t going to run. Not now. Jack had killed her way through the rest of the crew like a brutal game of chess just so she could have some time alone with him.  Jeremy’s heart was thumping so loudly, he wondered if she could hear it. Adrenaline was singing through him, his vision was sharp and jumpy and the fear was ringing in his ears, and yet...

Fuck, he _liked_ it. Wanted to feel _more_ of it. Wanted to see what Jack would do now that he’d laid out some boundaries.

“In here, honey.” Jack steered him into a room filled with bright sunlight, over to a long, low piece of furniture. Like a bed with a padded headboard, curling backwards in a velvety scroll. “Go ahead, lay down.”

The moment was like standing on the edge of a diving board, that hesitation before the jump. Jeremy stared at the piece of furniture with his pulse thumping in his ears.  This was where Jack wanted him to die.

“I-isn’t it... a little expensive for me to be bleeding on?”

“Well, yeah.” Jack’s smile was sweet, strangely comforting, as she tapped a finger gently against his lips. “Whenever possible, Jeremy, people should always lose their virginity on the most _obscenely_ expensive furniture they can find. Go on, get comfortable. I’m sure Geoff won’t mind.”

Fuck, those words. That _image_ . He was going to lay under Jack-- confident, experienced Jack-- and she was going to _take--_

Jeremy sat. Swung his legs over. Lay back.  Surrendering to Jack, letting her climb on top of him, straddle him.  The weight of her on his hips felt good, bare thighs hugging either side of his bare chest.  He was so, _so_ hard under her, even as he saw her lifting the knife.

“How’re you doing?” Her soft words cut through the terror. “Good fear?”

He nodded. God, the knife looked sharp, but the seat was so comfortable.  His pulse was racing, as though it knew it had limited time before it would be stilled.  “Y-yeah. Good fear.”

“That’s good.  Are you ready for me to kill you, sweetheart?”

Jeremy shuddered under her.  “Y-yes…”

Her hand cupped his cheek, fingers curling under his jaw, nails brushing his skin.  She tilted his head to expose his neck, gentle in gesture, but too firm to leave room for resistance.  Jeremy’s entire body tensed when she lifted the knife.

Fuck, it looked sharp, fuck, he was about to _die --_

“There you go, babe… you look lovely like this…”

The knife pressed against his neck, sharp and cold, finding his thumping pulse.   _Jack knows what she’s doing._ Jeremy’s chest heaved as the knife waited, warming slowly against his skin, and then…

It carved sideways, not a hot quick slash but a slow draw through his neck.  Jeremy gasped, jolting once under the warm weight of Jack’s body, pain and adrenaline spiking through him like alarm bells --

Jack’s voice was soft, impossibly gentle as she _hurt_ him. “There we go, sweetie....Just like that…”

The knife worked into him, slicing carefully at the side of his neck with a deep, burning pain. The room spun dangerously.  Jeremy could _feel_ the warm gush of blood that followed the blade, flowing down the side of his neck in thick rivulets.  Like a warm shower. Slicking Jack’s hand as she withdrew the knife.

Jeremy’s pain-dizzy gaze was locked on the knife.  Fuck, that was _him_ dripping from the blade, glinting scarlet in the sun.  That was his life pouring down his neck and chest, dripping onto the expensive couch.

“Okay, honey.”  Jack’s hand softened against his face, cupping it lovingly, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on his cheek.  “We’re all done. You did great.”

She set the knife down on the couch, lifting her bloody hand and pressing it to his chest.  

“ … D-done? But… ”  Jeremy fumbled for words.  This was nothing like Ryan’s end game, or Gavin’s.  He hadn’t known what to expect, but he sure hadn’t expected Jack to put the knife down.  “But I’m still breathing --”

“Not for much longer. Not with that much blood loss.”  Jack’s fingers trailed through the rivulets of blood, her gaze following the flow. “You’re dead, Jeremy. Your body just doesn’t know it yet.”

He shivered. The cushion was _wet_ under him, warm and sticky, a sweet _slickness_ between Jack’s fingertips and his bare skin.  Jeremy’s trembling hand lifted, finding the hot, flowing slash on his neck, warm and wet between his fingers…

“Feel that?” Jack’s voice was soft, her gaze so _focused_ on him, like she didn’t want to miss a single beautiful detail.

Everything felt slow, dizzy.  He couldn’t seem to get enough air.  “S-so you’re… you’re just gonna _watch_ while I...”

Jack’s fingers joined Jeremy’s, his blood smearing between their clasped hands.  “I’m gonna stay with you, yeah. You haven’t done this yet, have you? You’ve been shot and you’ve been slit and you’ve been cut up a little, but no one’s _bled_ you. And Jeremy, I’m so excited to be your first.”

She smiled at him, soft and genuine, cupping his face with her warm, dry hand. The hand that wasn’t wet with his blood. God, it felt so nice, so _comforting._ The pain in his neck was a sweet dull throb, like a dry red wine.

“Do you know how excited we all were? To be the first to put a blade to you?”  There was a breathiness in Jack’s voice, an excitement. “Had to ease you into it, though. Couldn’t just _start_ with the things we wanted. And _fuck_ , did we _want_.  We talked about you, J. When you weren’t there, we’d fantasize about what we were gonna do to our pretty little murder virgin.”

“Nnh -”  If he hadn’t been so weak, his hips would have pushed up against her.  “Th-that’s… fuck…”

Jack leaned in close, whispering her next words against the un-slit side of his neck.

“Sometimes we’d talk about it while we fucked.  Sharing fantasies of cutting into you for the first time.  How sensitive you’d be, how easy it would be to make you scream.  The crew’s been getting off on your death since long before your first game of Murder, Jeremy.”

“H-holy shit...” His chest was heaving, his own blood starting to cool beneath him. “T-that’s-”

“I wanted to be your first. We all did. But you didn’t really have a ‘first’ in that sense, did you? Your killers were _careful_ with you. Made it quick and easy. Never more than you could handle. But you’re stronger now, aren’t you? Ready to play with us. And Jeremy. I’m so proud to be your first exsanguination.”

“Oh… ” Jack’s words were going straight to his cock, or they would’ve been if he’d had blood to spare. He was so aroused, but also so, so weak. His voice was starting to slur, like Ryan’s had. “F...fuck…”

“It’s okay.” Jack’s voice was reassuring. “Ryan’s done this to me before. You’re gonna feel cold, and tired, and you’re gonna fall asleep. You’re gonna fall a long way. And wake up in your pod, warm and safe. Like waking from a nap. Hey, there’s an idea…” Her hand lifted from Jeremy’s face, taking her heat with it. Reaching up to touch her com. “Hey, Gavin? Get some tea ready for Jeremy, please? He’ll be joining you soon, and he could use a warm drink.”

The com beeped in Jeremy’s ear. _“Wooo! This is ghost Gavin putting the kettle on! You’re doing great, Jeremy! Jack’s definitely not being creepy or anything.”_

“Thanks, Gav.”  Jack’s hand slipped from her com, her full attention focused back on him.  “Ah, Jeremy; you’ve stopped shivering. That’s good. It means you’re almost done.”

Almost done...she was talking about dying. He was almost done bleeding to death. The thought was frightening in a way the anticipation of a cut or a bullet wasn’t. No one was forcing Death on him. It was stalking him, like a silent predator. He had no idea when it would rise to swallow him whole.

“Hey. Hey, Jer. You okay?” Her hand was on his cheek again, stroking gently. Grounding him. “Hey, honey, if it’s too much, I can slit you nice and quick. Get this over with. Do you need that? Or are you good to keep going?”

Fuck, the way she was looking at him...he didn’t want to disappoint her. “N-no. I’m good.”

“Good? Oh, Jeremy. I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re doing so well for us. For _all_ of us.” She drew her finger gently through the blood on his neck, wetting it like a paintbrush. Lifted his limp hand. Painted two curved strokes on his palm. A heart, drawn in blood.

“We love you, Jeremy. We would never _really_ hurt you.”

The words were warm. The sunlight through the windows looked warm where it fell on the smooth wooden floor. Jack was warm on top of him. God, she was so _beautiful,_ soft hair and pink lips and sweet eyes, focused on him like he was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.  The room had a twinkly quality to it, shimmering around the edges.

He was tired.

Jack leaned over him, pressing her mouth to his, soft and gentle. Giving, not taking. The sofa was _so_ comfortable.

“Jack?” The word was barely a whisper against her lips.

“Yeah, Jeremy?”

He felt heavy, like he was lying beneath a thick, warm comforter. Everything was warm and soft. “Jack, this was...a really good first time.”

“‘Was’?”

“I…” He couldn’t keep his eyes open. “I think I’m gonna take that nap now.”

“You do that, honey. I’ll be right here.”

\----

“ … Jeremy?”

A familiar voice drifted through Jeremy’s sleepy haze, reaching through the mist like a warm hand against his face.  Not Jack’s voice. That felt strange, for a moment. Only he and Jack were left on the boat…

Jeremy let out a breath, shifted, and realized that the warm hand on his face wasn’t an illusion.  

“Looks like you’re breathing again, yeah?  That’s the way, get some oxygen in those new lungs.  Made you that tea, just like Jack said. I put a little honey in it; local beekeepers, lovely stuff.”

Jeremy opened his eyes blearily. Gavin was leaning over him, so focused on his face that he was practically inside the clone pod himself. Jeremy blinked up at him, and Gavin’s face broke into a smile.

“Welcome back, boy! Had a good nap?”

Jeremy gave a slow nod, half-nuzzling Gavin’s hand.  God, he felt like he’d just woken up from the most satisfying sleep.

Gavin kept talking.  “Know I’m not much of a welcome party, but the others are already on their way back over in the chopper. Can’t exactly bring bodies back into the harbor by boat, yeah? But I can get one of ‘em on the com if you need someone else. Or all of ‘em. One big group call. Whatever you need.”

Jeremy sat up slowly, reaching up to touch his neck. Solid and unslit. Pulse thrumming strong and calm beneath his fingers.

“She’s good, right? Jack, I mean. Kills like she’s making love.” Gavin cleared his throat, averting his eyes.  There was a sudden flush in his cheeks. “‘Course, there’ve been times she was...ah...less than gentle with me in the bedroom. But anyway! Tea!”

Gavin held out a steaming mug, almost reverently.  Jeremy couldn’t help but smile to see that the cup was emblazoned with a Union Jack. He took it, warm ceramic smooth against his hands. Sipped it slowly. Milk and honey and clover and cinnamon, sweet and soft on his tongue.

“Good?” Gavin was watching him eagerly. “Granted, we _do_ come from vastly different tea cultures, so if it needs something-”

“It’s good.” Jeremy was almost surprised to hear the steadiness in his voice. “Thanks, Gavin. It’s...it’s just what I needed.”

Gavin bounced a little with the praise, beaming at him. “Need me to grab you something? A pillow for you to lean on, in there? Pants?” He stilled himself, obviously through great force of will. “Or...do you just wanna take a minute?”

The tea was half gone. Hot, sweet, healing him in ways the clone pods couldn’t. “I think… I’m gonna finish this first, Gav.  Thanks.”

Gavin folded his arms on the edge of the clone pod and rested his chin on them.  “Right then, I’ll be right here.”

Jeremy took another two sips of tea before speaking.  “ … Is the feed still running?”

“Still running, not that much is happening.  I think Jack’s cuddling your body and getting a lovely lil’ tan.  She tends to go all snuggly after a kill.”

“ … Could you tell her I’m doing good?”

Gavin sprang up and threw him a salute.  “Be right back, boy!”

He skipped across the room, leaving Jeremy in the cozy embrace of the clone pod to nurse the rest of his tea.  A moment later, he heard Gavin speak.

“Right then, Jack, that’s the match!  Nice work, you ruthless bastard.”

_“Hey, Gav!  How’s Jeremy doing?”_

“He’s just fine, having a bit of tea.”

_“Could you tell him how good he was for me?”_

A warm little shiver crept through Jeremy at the words.  Sleepy contentment was growing into a quiet bliss as he sipped the last of his tea.

“Go on, I’m sure he can hear you.”

_“Jeremy?  You were wonderful, honey.”_

Finally, Jeremy stood up, hauling himself out of the clone pod.  On the screen, he could see Jack sprawled on the couch next to his own lifeless body.  If it weren’t for the growing puddle of blood, they would have looked like no more than spooning lovers.

Jeremy crossed the room, not complaining when Gavin immediately latched onto him with a loose hug.  

“Hey, Jack?  That was fucking incredible.”

_“Aww, Jeremy, I’m so glad!”_

“Are you… cuddling my dead body?”

_“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t alone, in case you weren’t actually dead yet.”_

“Aw, that’s… sweet, I think.”

 _“Plus, you look great in your new suit.”_ Jack’s fingers tickled his chest. _“Not really a chore to hang out here.”_

“…Okay, it’s sweet and also a little creepy.”

“That’s Jack’s M.O.,” whispered Gavin.  Louder, he said, “You all set over there, Jack?  Need us to stay on the line until the crew shows up?”

 _“No need, Gav, I feel wonderful.”_ Jack stood, stretched, and Jeremy took a long moment to appreciate just how _good_ she looked in her bikini, even with fresh blood stains on it. _“I’ll start cleaning up.  You boys have fun!”_

Gavin waved, as though Jack could see them, then turned the screen off.

Jeremy set down his empty teacup.  Warmth from the tea and from Jack’s words and from Gavin’s consistent touch were all coursing through his body.  He bit his lip and gave Gavin a smile.

“...You wanna watch the replays?”

“Do I!” Gavin practically bounced away to the control panel, typing furiously. “I’ll queue ‘em up for you! Oh Jeremy, you’re gonna _love_ ‘em! There’s just something about seeing _yourself_ under the knife, ‘ya know? That’s a good thought, for _during_. How hot it’s gonna be later.”

Something about the excited flush in Gavin’s cheeks tipped Jeremy off.  His smirk grew as he leaned against the panel next to Gavin, watching him work.

“ … Who were you blowing while Jack was killing me?” Jeremy asked.

Gavin froze, the flush in his cheeks spreading.  He cleared his throat a few times before answering.  

“Uh… Michael.”

“Mmh.”

Gavin sighed and continued typing.  “I swear, Jeremy, it catches me right off guard when you’re clever.”

“Hey.”

“So, um…” Gavin tapped a finger against the counter, considering. “You know...we have screens in the lounge, if you wanna watch ‘em in there. Not on these chairs. On sofas. Big, long sofas, where we’d both probably fit…”

“Gavin, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“N-nothing too involved! Nothing that’d be distracting, just…”  Gavin cleared his throat, eyes on the screen as he worked. “I didn’t get to see bits of it, I was sorta...sorta under the table, you know? Might be nice just to…”

“Cuddle?”

Gavin hit one more button on the control panel and turned back to Jeremy.  “I was thinking more like, aggressively spoon. It’s all cued up. Wanna go get comfy and watch Jack slit you?”

Jeremy snagged Gavin’s hand with a smile.  “Let’s go.”


	6. Dungeon Crawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings for this chapter: Claustrophobia, scary water shit, drowning, needing to safeword during a scene, brief dom drop. Everyone who needs aftercare is given aftercare.
> 
> I know the murder in the last chapter was pretty fluffy, but this chapter has some honest-to-god murder-free vanilla fluff in one part.

“So, how many maps are there?” Jeremy asked over beers one night.

He was still stunned by the contrast between the dark, gloomy warehouse and the bright luxury of the yacht.  They seemed like different worlds. Murder, somehow, had seemed like a different game on the yacht, and he wanted to know how many flavors it came in.

The crew had exchanged excited looks over their beers.  Michael had grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and leaned over the table. 

“Y’know what, Lil’ J? Talk is cheap. There’s still time for a game today... Would you rather we just...showed you?”

\----

The helicopter took them in a different direction this time.  It hummed over the hills-turned-mountains outside of Los Santos, heading for what Jeremy had been told was an abandoned mining site that adjoined a real, actual, honest-to-goodness  _ cave system _ . He stared down at the view as Jack shouted instructions over the roar of the blades.

“Okay, so here’s how we’re gonna do it. Three drop points, two of you at each one, and you each take a different path as soon as the opportunity presents itself. Honor system here; the killer  _ cannot _ get their knife wet until  _ after _ their drop partner is out of sight. Be fair, people.”

“Or,” interjected Gavin, “do us all a solid and break the rules, get yourself a nice pretty collar for next round.  I know I’ll appreciate it.”

“Jeremy and Geoff, you’re dropping at the main entrance. The one they used to truck shit out of back when this was an active mine. Nice, big hole in the side of a rock face. You can just walk right on in; it’s practically an access ramp. Ryan and Michael, you’re dropping at the secondary entrance, the one with the ladder and the opening that’s about the width of a closet door. Gavin and I, being the resident Crazy Fuckers, will be dropping at the Crawlspace and entering the cave single-file via shimmying shoulder-to-rock through a tiny-ass hole in the ground that will, I have faith, eventually widen out into a nice, cavernous room in which to kill each other. Don’t worry, everyone; I wore my sports bra.” 

Jeremy wondered if everyone else in the chopper was now picturing Jack in her sports bra. He figured the answer was probably  _ yes _ .  Fuck, whoever got a knife in their box  _ could _ see it, if they wanted. Could pin Jack down, cut her clothes off, see whether they’d protected her soft skin as she squeezed between jagged rocks-

God, he wanted a knife in his box.

Jack continued over the roar of the helicopter, words jolting him back to the present. “So, Jeremy, some Cave Facts for you; there is a marked trail in this cave left by professionals who are not us. There’s a rope bridge at one point, but mostly it’s just guide ropes. The trail is safe, in terms of cave-safety. If you stay on the trail, you will absolutely  _ not _ get lost. You won’t fall down a pit or trip on a rock or get stuck in a tunnel that closed in around you as you crawled until you couldn’t move forward or back.  _ But _ , the trail is more exposed and better lit. Weigh your options.”

“There’s a real chance of getting lost or stuck on this map,” Geoff interjected.  “Unlike most of our other maps, this one is actually dangerous. If you want that to be part of the game, more power to you.  If you find yourself in a truly uncomfortable position and you’re not having fun, call safeword and we’ll get you out.”

Jeremy shuddered.  Here, hundreds of feet in the air, it was hard to imagine being trapped by the crushing weight of the earth, hard stone squeezing around him with no way out.  But Jack and Geoff were painting a pretty vivid picture.

Jack picked up again.  “Don’t expect us to find you via directions over the com. Caves are confusing as shit. What you wanna do is; find a decent-sized rock and tap it against something else also made of rock. The sound will carry for miles.  Of course, you don’t have to call safeword to do this. If you wanna roll the dice and see if a fellow bystander is close enough to help you out, go for it.”

“…Roll the dice?” Jeremy ventured, uneasy.

Jack chuckled.  “Call for help, and who will find you first? An ally, or the killer?  _ And! _ If you hear tapping rocks, is someone really in trouble? Or is the killer just trying to lure you closer? “

“Or…” Geoff leaned forward, hushing his voice. “Is it… something  _ else? _ ”

“Shut up, Geoff.”  Jack continued brightly.  “So-- lights! There are some along the trail that are motion-activated, and they do a great job of lighting the place up.  Of course, they might give your position away. If you go off the trail, you’re gonna be relying on your head lamp. If you’re scared of the dark, don’t fucking lose it. Caves are darker than the inside of Ryan’s asshole.”

Ryan shot a seething glare towards the pilot’s seat.  “Are you sure, Jack? Have you checked recently?”

Jack continued without so much as a pause.  “Water! Do not wade into the water unless you’re prepared for surprise swimming, because sometimes the floor just decides to fuck off. Also, everyone’ll hear you splashing.  _ But _ , maybe that’s where the boxes are! Don’t worry; nothing in there wants to eat you. Or, at least, we haven’t been ambushed by cave-piranhas  _ yet _ .”

Geoff chuckled.  “Of course, cave-piranhas might not be the worst thing down there…”

“Geoff’s at it with his monster bullshit again,” Michael grumbled.

“Yeah, uh…”  Jeremy shoot an uneasy look at Geoff.  “What exactly are you talking about?”

Geoff leaned back in his seat, looking pleased beyond words that Jeremy had asked.  “Oh, nothing much, lil’ J, just a bit of local history. The people around here swear up and down that there’s, uh… some  _ creature  _ that lives in the caves.  Something that just  _ loves _ the tender sun-kissed flesh of hapless explorers.  No one knows exactly what it looks like, see, because it always looms just behind its victims in the darkness.  Follows them for hours, sometimes.” Geoff wiggled his fingers like claws. “You never see it. You just feel the  _ hands. _ ”

Gavin smacked the back of his hand against Geoff’s arm with a noise like an angry squeak.  “Shut  _ up,  _ Geoff!”

Geoff seemed to wave away his own words.  “But... we’ve played in the mines plenty of times before and never seen one, so like… It’s probably fine.”  He snickered. “Of course, if it  _ was  _ there, we wouldn’t see it, would we?”

“First drop point!” called Jack.  “Jeremy and Geoff, get out!”

\----

The main entrance was exactly as promised. A wide, dark hole, like a grand doorway into the earth itself. Lights had been strung along the walls, illuminating the way.

Jeremy watched the chopper sail away into the sky, his box under his arm.  The sun was warm on his face, and he tried to memorize the feeling. He had a feeling he was about to miss it.

“Gotta wait here until everyone drops,” Geoff explained as the hum of the chopper began to fade.  He leaned comfortably against one side of the wide cave opening. “And then a little longer, as a courtesy, ‘cause the others have to climb or crawl inside. We’ve got it easy. This is the start of the marked trail. We can just stroll in.” 

Jeremy gave Geoff a thoughtful look.  The whole crew was dressed down for this map -- faded orange shirt for Jeremy,  no purple jacket to go with it -- and by Geoff standards this meant one of his older button-downs and a pair of dark jeans.  His sleeves were rolled up just like always, leaving miles of tattoos bare to the sun. Even dressed down, the man was still annoyingly dapper.

There was a strange, intimate tension in the act of sharing this part of the game with another person.  The waiting, the quiet. The moment before the plunge. 

Speaking of plunge…  

Jeremy turned his gaze to the illuminated tunnel. Even with the lights, it looked frightfully dim compared to the bright, sunny day outside.  The tunnel went down and down and down, and disappeared into shadow. He couldn’t see where it led.

Jeremy took a breath and lifted his box.  “Well...should we open these, then?”

“Yeah.”  Geoff spun his finger in a circle.  “Turn around; no peeking.”

Back-to-back, they opened their boxes. Inside, Jeremy found the familiar com and handcuffs, as well as a lamp with elastic straps that amusingly resembled a thong. Nothing else. The items made metallic rattling noises as he removed them, quickly clipping them on.  He could hear Geoff doing the same.

“Hey, this lamp is for my  _ head _ , right?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes, Jeremy.” He turned to see Geoff looking at him, lamp already on. “Despite the visual, it goes on your head. Need any help?”

“Uh…”  Jeremy shot a quick look at Geoff’s now-empty box, sitting innocently on the ground.  If something besides the usual gear had been inside it, there was no way to know now. “No thanks.” 

Now that the boxes were opened, the killer knew who they were. One member of the crew had just changed from friend to foe. Jack had said no slitting until they were out of sight of their drop partner, but then...the others might not even have their coms on yet. No one would know.

Geoff was giving him a skeptical look.  “You sure?”

Jeremy slipped the lamp on, one elastic band encircling his skull while the other ran across it, keeping it from sliding down. He tightened them by touch, not taking his eyes off Geoff.

“Okay then.” Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Just thought I’d offer.”

Jack’s voice broke the tension.  _ “Aaaand we’re down! Everyone has dropped! Gavin and I are about to start crawling. Give us a count of sixty, and then let’s play Murder!” _

_ “Sounds good, Jack! So, everyone’s opened their boxes by now? Who’s got the gun?” _

_ “It’s meeee!”  _ Jack’s delighted reply was muffled by scraping sounds. _ “I have the distinct honor of shimmying down the earth’s butthole with a gun in my bra. If you hear a loud bang, you guys, just know that I am  _ really _ embarrassed.”  _

_ “Yeah, it’s not an ideal situation for her.”  _ Gavin, accompanied by the same noises.  _ “I made her go down first and I’m giving her loooots of room. Not getting picked off by ricochet before we even get to the damn cave.” _

“I dunno, Gav; might be a mercy.” Geoff was grinning. “Nice, quick death by bullet before the cave monster gets you.  Plus, then the rest of us might get to see Jack in handcuffs.”

_ “Ha ha.” _ A sound like a small rockslide.  _ “Shut up.” _

_ “Okay guys, I’m down! Gavin’s right behind me. Go ahead and enter!” _

“Excellent.” Geoff cocked his head towards the tunnel. “Shall we?”

They stepped forward, out of the sunlight and into the dark recesses of the earth.

The going was slower than it could’ve been, both of them shooting glances at the other, careful to keep their steps even. Not to let the other person fall behind, to open an opportunity for rule-breaking.

The tunnel sloped downwards at a steady pace, perfectly straight.  Ancient tire grooves in the floor showed where some vehicle had once hauled raw materials up from the mine, years ago.  Jeremy had been expecting an oppressive chill, and, while he certainly missed the sunlight on his face, it wasn’t terrible either.  The air, while damp and mineral-tinged, was almost balmy.

“Hey, it’s pretty warm in here. I was kind of expecting it to be cold and miserable.”

“Yeah, it’s a constant sixty-two degrees fahrenheit with a less-than-one degree variation year-round,” Geoff recited. “The lack of wind makes it pretty nice.”

_ “Just don’t fall in the water while you’re clothed, Jeremy.” _ Jack’s voice. _ “There’s no sunlight to dry you down here. It’s fucking miserable.”  _

_ “Yeah, Jeremy! Take off all your clothes; go skinny dipping!”  _

Up ahead, the walls were opening up. Widening from a hallway to an open space, with the marked trail running through it. Now, insead of the man-made walls, Jeremy could see the beginnings of natural cave formations. Shapes he knew from movies, but had never seen with his own eyes.  The artificial lights cast everything in a strange, stark glow.

Jeremy was itching to get away from Geoff, to put some distance between himself and the other players. He immediately hopped the guard rail, leaving the deceptive safety of the well-lit trail.

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Going so soon?”

“Yup.” Jeremy gave him a mock-salute, walking backwards across the uneven ground. Keeping Geoff in his sight until he was a safe distance away. “Gonna try my luck on my own, thanks.”

“Hmm.” Geoff watched him go, expression unreadable. “Good luck.”

\----

Jack hadn’t been lying earlier; the cave was  _ dark _ .  The merciful illumination of the main trail was swallowed up with alarming speed by the shadows as Jeremy rounded just a few corners.  As he ventured farther and farther from the trail, his field of vision narrowed down to the slice of light cast by his headlamp. He had to turn his head to see his surroundings clearly, sweeping the light over everything around him. All else was darkness. 

Fuck, he could picture what he looked like, if anyone else was nearby. Like a star in the darkness, the only bright spot in the sky. The beam of his headlamp moving in wide arcs like a lighthouse, calling the killer home.  Somehow, in the cramped darkness of the cave, he was feeling horribly exposed.

Jeremy shuddered. Maybe it would be a good idea to get out of sight. Find one of those narrow tunnels Jack had mentioned, see where it led.  That was probably where all the boxes were, anyway. Hidden in the darkest reaches of the cave, to make the players really  _ work _ for them. 

_ “Man, you’re a sullen bunch today.”   _ Geoff’s chipper voice startled Jeremy.   _ “Come on, how’s everyone doing?  I’m not afraid to say that I’ve got two gun parts already.” _

Gavin grunted uncomfortably.   _ “Sorry, this map gives me the willies.  Hard to be chatty when every sound carries.” _

_ “I like it.”   _ Ryan sounded pleased.   _ “It’s got good ambiance.” _

_ “What the fuck, Ryan, are you writing yelp reviews for our murder maps now?” _

_ “I could.  I’d give this one four stars.” _

Jeremy grunted.  “I’m with Gavin, this place is fucking creepy.”

_ “Yeah, that’s why Ryan likes it.” _

_ “Hey.” _

Jeremy was passing pools of water now. Small, mostly-- little more than koi ponds-- but with no warning other than the flash of water under his lamplight. There were no safety barriers down here, nothing to stop him from slipping, falling in with a splash, soaking his clothing, maybe concussing himself.  Geoff hadn’t been kidding when he said that the map itself was dangerous.

More and more, Jeremy was feeling convinced that the walls were getting closer together.  That the tunnel was narrowing. He lifted his hand nervously to his com, touching the familiar plastic as though he could feel his crew mates through it.  Damn, it would almost be more of a relief than a fright to run into another player right now. They might have a knife, but they would definitely have a familiar face, and that was starting to feel like a worthwhile trade-off.

The tunnel was definitely narrowing.

_ “Christ--!”  _ Jack’s startled shout made him jump.   _ “Michael, don’t sneak up on me like that!  Almost gave me a heart attack...” _

_ “I almost gave you a heart attack?  You almost gave me a bullet in the head!” _

_ “There’s still time to give you one if you don’t keep moving.” _

_ “Geez, Jack is feisty today.” _

_ “I sure fucking am!  One of y’all is a killer with a real fresh memory of what I did to you in the last round!  I don’t trust any of you!” _

Jeremy let out a tense breath.  Shit, he hadn’t really thought about cross-game grudges.  A killer who had just made a clean sweep had to walk into their next game with a target on their back.  

God damn the tunnel was getting narrow.

As he rounded a corner, Jeremy’s headlamp flashed over a dead end, and he faltered to a stop. ...No, not a completely dead end.  Up ahead, he could see an opening in the rock wall. A tunnel that would undoubtedly be too narrow to walk through, but looked just right for crawling. Like one of those scenes on TV when a character is moving through the ventilation system. Not a  _ comfortable _ fit, but a  _ possible  _ one. 

The only way forward.  And, now that he thought about it, it looked like the perfect place to hide a box.

Jeremy approached the crawl space uneasily.  It looked to be about two feet off the ground…  _ maybe _ two-and-a-half. Big enough for a Jeremy-sized person to crawl through.  He bent over, hands on his knees, shining his headlamp inside. It looked like it went a few yards deep and then opened up into some bigger chamber, though he couldn’t see what kind.

Well, he was about to find out.

The moment he poked his head inside inside, head nearly bumping the ceiling and elbows on the floor, the tunnel seemed frighteningly narrow.  Jeremy breathed a shaky curse and wiggled deeper. There wasn’t space to crawl on hands and knees, but, with his stomach lowered almost to the ground, army-crawling was just fine.  Just so long as he didn’t think about how close the walls were around him. How little he could move. How he couldn’t turn around. How unforgiving the cold stone was as he struggled to move through the narrow space, like manacles around his entire body.  How  _ close  _ the air was in here--

A rough hand locked around his ankle and  _ yanked.   _

Jeremy nearly screamed as he was dragged back down the tunnel.  His fumbling hands scrambled on the slick walls, but they were too smooth, he couldn’t get purchase.  His legs thrashed in panic as that hungry grip wandered higher up his legs, squeezing as it went, dragging him back.

“S-something’s — something’s got me!” Jeremy screamed into his mic.

Voices — beautiful, familiar voices — answered over the com.

_ “Something?  You mean someone? _ ”  That was Michael, skeptical, nervous.   _ “How do you not know who’s got you?” _

Geoff chuckled.   _“Mmmh, might be the monster, Jeremy.  Do you feel any… long, groping fingers?”_

Jeremy choked as he was yanked back further, his hips now dragged out of the hole. “Fuck fuck fuck shit --!”

Jeremy slammed his hands against either wall and pressed as hard as he could.  His backward movement halted. In the cramped darkness of the tunnel, Jeremy’s chest heaved.  His fingers ached where he gripped the slippery stone walls, arms shaking with effort. 

One of the hands slid up to his ass and gave it an appreciative squeeze.

Jeremy jolted, his breath catching in the musty darkness.  The hand kneaded slowly, then grabbed the seat of his pants and began pulling them down.

“Fuck —“  Jeremy sucked in a panicked breath.  _ “ _ F-f-f-fuck fuck fuck fuck —“

He didn’t dare move his arms.  The hold on his leg was still tight, threatening to drag him out further if his grip loosened.  He was trapped and helpless and he couldn’t even  _ see  _ who was fondling him, squeezing his bare ass, pressing a thumb into the crease and nudging at his hole… 

“Nnh… f-fuck… “

_ “Whoever’s got you sounds like they’re having a good time,”  _ chuckled Ryan.

“Sh-shut up —“  

The delicate, dangerous, unmistakable edge of a knife pressed against his bare thigh.  __ Jeremy froze, his heart pounding.  That was the  _ killer  _ groping his ass, holding him in place.  That was the  _ killer  _ delicately trailing a knife down his thigh, right where they would need to slice if they wanted to slit his femoral artery and let him bleed out without ever seeing who they were.

_ “Jeremy?”   _ Jack’s voice.   _ “Jeremy, are you alive?” _

Jeremy whimpered.  “Oh g-god, I d-don’t think I’m gonna be for long...”

The hand cupping his ass squeezed, then  _ spread.   _ Jeremy felt a warm touch of breath-- his only warning-- and then a hot, slick tongue dragged over him.

“A-ah--”  Jeremy’s hips jolted, his eyes wide in the darkness.  “O-oh fuck--”

Hot, wet, hungry, probing.  It was hard to keep his arms tense, keep his guard up with that sweet hungry mouth between his legs.  Fuck, that was the  _ killer  _ eating his ass...

If he could figure out who it was, he could warn the others.  Fuck, fuck, it was so hard to  _ think  _ with the hot steamy drag of a tongue lapping over him, the dangerous press of a knife against his thigh.  He didn’t have much information to go off, waist-deep in a hole in the ground with no view of the killer, half-deafened by his own panting.  If one of the voices over his com had also come from behind him, he wouldn’t fucking know…

Fuck.  Focus. The face pressed against his ass was scruffy, not smooth.  Not Jack or Michael. Jeremy chewed his lip, shivering. The hands gripping his upper thighs were bare, no gloves.  Not Ryan. But what if Ryan had taken them off? Fuck.

_ “ … Could you give us a play-by-play?”  _ asked Jack hopefully.   _ “Whatever they’re doing sounds… good.” _

Not Jack, because she couldn’t have spoken  _ while  _ tonguing his ass, but he already knew it wasn’t Jack--  _ fuck-- _

Michael’s breath was heavy.   _ “Sounds like he’s getting fucked.” _

The tongue lifted away, replaced by the teasing press of a finger.

_ “Lucky, _ ” breathed Gavin.   _ “Who’s fucking Jeremy?” _

_ “Nnnh, wish it was me,”  _ groaned Ryan.   _ “You sound good when you’re scared, Jeremy.” _

The finger sunk into him, slick and easy.  Jeremy gasped, his grip on the cave walls almost slipping.

The finger was  _ thick _ , strong and clever and  _ rubbing- _ was it too thick to be Gavin’s?  There was only one place on that slim body that Gavin was  _ thick,  _ but it was fucking hard to be sure when he was face-down with a knife on his thigh and a finger slowly probing him open -- 

“A-ah!” The finger  _ pressed _ , sending sparks through him. Pumping into him slowly, savoring each noise. Taking him apart bit by bit, methodical, like…

“G-Geoff?” Jeremy adjusted his grip on the slick cave walls, arms shaking with the effort. He couldn’t help but  _ clench _ as he shifted, whimpering when the finger continued to move inside him, undeterred, inescapable, oh  _ fuck-- _ “Geoff, a-are you fucking me?”

_ “Geoff’s fucking Jeremy?”  _ Jack’s voice was heavy with arousal. _ “Lucky!” _

_ “What?  I hate to say it, but it’s not me.” _

_ “That must mean he’s the killer, right?”  _ Ryan sounded breathless.  _ “Oh fuck, Geoff; it’s been a  _ long _ time since I’ve died under your knife!” _

_ “It’s not fucking me!”  _

_ “Hey Geoff, are you taking requests?” _ Michael’s voice.  _ “Bite him for me. Just a little. See if he likes getting as much as he likes giving.” _

The finger stilled inside him, made no move to pull out. Jeremy waited in the darkness, not daring to breathe. Not knowing if the sharp press of a knife was next, or--

A hot, hungry mouth on the exposed skin of his ass, teeth sinking in  _ deep _ , tugging--

“Oh  _ fuck _ !” He jolted forward, pressing teeth  _ scraping _ at him, held helplessly in place by the firm hand on his thigh--

_ “Mmmh, so biting’s good, yeah?” _ Ryan, sounding like he might’ve found a quiet corner to jerk off in.  _ “A killer who takes requests. We don’t deserve you, Geoff.” _

_ “I’m not the killer, and I’m not fucking Jeremy!” _

_ “That’s what they all say. Hey, if you spank him, I’ll buy you a bottle of that unnecessarily expensive shit you drink.” _

Gavin hummed, sounding pleased.   _ “Good show, Jeremy.  Keep that killer distracted, yeah?  More gun parts for the rest of us!” _

_ “What’re you doing to him, Geoff?”  _ Jack, maybe in her own quiet corner.  _ “He can’t see you, right? Do you have him bent over, taking that inked-up cock?” _

_ “I swear to you, Jack, I am not the one fucking Jeremy! It’s probably you, with how fucking horny you sound--” _

The finger inside him pressed deep, probing, and Jeremy’s toes curled.  The knife kept trailing over his thigh, starting to press hungrily, just shy of breaking skin.

_ “Tell me, Jer.”   _ He could hear Jack panting.   _ “Is there a cock in you, babe?” _

Jeremy whined, burying his hot face against his shaking arm.  “N-not yet…”

_ “Mmmh, shame.  You’ve got more self-control than I do, Geoff.” _

_ “It’s not me!  I’m really starting to wish it was!” _

_ “Did you bring lube?”  _ Jack spoke over him, undeterred.  _ “Is he nice and slick, or- nnh- are you being  _ rough _?” _

Ryan’s breath shuddered over the com.  _ “Ohhhh, good question. Which is it, Geoff? Are you being rough? Or  _ gentle _?” _

Jeremy’s dick was twitching against the slick, cool floor. “H-he rimmed me first…”

_ “Oh wow, Jeremy; keep talking!” _ Jack’s voice, eager tone like a lifeline.  _ “Tell us what he’s doing to you! Does he have the knife out?” _

The blade pressed against his leg, a silent “yes.” Jeremy winced. 

“Y-yeah, he’s got it against my thigh, g-god...  I’m being...r-real good for him.”

_ “Oh fuck, I bet you are. You’re such a good victim. Give him a little reward, Geoff. Treat your first kill right.” _

_ “F-for the last time, it’s not me…” _

The finger slid out and the hand slipped under Jeremy’s hips, coaxing them to lift.  With the press of the knife against his thigh, it became a command. Jeremy whined, letting the killer lift his ass as much as was possible with his front half stuck in the tunnel, his knees scraping against stone.  The knife slipped away and suddenly there was an empty hand wrapping around his throbbing cock, giving it a  _ squeeze-- _

“Ohhhh  _ f-fuck _ \--” Jeremy’s hips almost twitched as the finger sunk back into him, both hands working him over.   “G-god, Jack, he’s--”

_ “Yeah?” _

“T-touching me real nice-- fuck--”

_ “Good. Fuck, that’s good. Make him make some  _ noises _ , Geoff. Play him like a fiddle.” _

_ “Ugh, fine, you wanna assume it’s me?  Wanna assume I’ve got Jeremy pants-down in some dark corner, having my way with him?  Enjoy the fantasy. I’ve got gun parts to find so I can put a bullet in whoever is  _ actually _ making Jeremy their bitch.” _

No sooner had Geoff stopped speaking than the warm, wet tongue returned, joining the finger still pumping slickly into him. Licking all around where it was entering him, starting to wriggle in alongside it...  Jeremy’s head fell forward, arms burning, whole body shaking. He couldn’t hold on much longer, but if he let go he’d be dragged out and  _ slit _ , and if he struggled the knife would press...

The knife.

The knife was gone. Vanished in favor of a hand on his cock, Jack’s words winding up the killer to the point that he’d thrown caution to the wind, groping Jeremy with no guarantee that he’d  _ behave-- _

Fuck, it was now or never.

The tongue slipped away and a  _ second  _ finger pressed inside him, probing him open. Jeremy couldn’t help the moan that slipped out at the sudden, welcome stretch. God, it was tempting to just let the killer have him, so long as they kept touching him like this… 

For the first time, Jeremy heard Geoff’s breath hitch over the com. His next words were murmured, almost a whisper, as though he could speak exclusively to Jeremy without the rest of the crew hearing.  As though he couldn’t help himself. 

_ “You... you gonna let the killer fuck you, Jeremy?” _

Jeremy took a breath, shifting his hips slightly; a better position for the killer to keep fingering him, and also a better position to wind up his leg…

“Y-yeah, I'm-- I'm gonna let ‘em fuck me--”

Jeremy  _ kicked  _ as hard as he could. His foot connected with something solid and he heard a strained curse over the com, but he couldn't tell who it was.  He yanked himself down the tunnel, squirming deeper frantically. He felt an arm reach into the tunnel after him, grab at his ankle, but another solid kick had him free again.

Never in his life had Jeremy crawled on his belly so fast.

The tunnel opened up.  Jeremy pulled himself out with a gasp and stumbled to his feet, chest heaving in the darkness.  The light from his headlamp flashed over the narrow tunnel, nothing but silent rock and shifting shadows.  Jeremy’s breath was ragged, his legs quaking, not daring to move. He almost expected to see a knife-brandishing hand reach through the hole, the killer crawling after him.  For several thumping heartbeats, Jeremy stared at that dark hole in the wall, waiting to see the faintest trace of movement. 

Nothing.

Jeremy let out a shaking breath.  Fumbling, he grabbed his half-fallen pants and tugged them back up his legs.  God, he still felt slick and tingling, his cock still throbbing…

_ “Jeremy?”   _ Michael’s breath hitched.   _ “Holy shit, I think someone got stabby, guys.” _

Jeremy bit his lip as he tucked his stiff dick back into his pants.  It was hard to keep the tremor from his voice. “I g-got away. S-still don’t know who the  _ fuck _ that was.”

_ “You’re not dead?  Damn, lil’ J, nice work!” _

Jack’s pout was audible over the com.   _ “Aww, shame.  I liked hearing you squirm.” _

_ “So did I,”  _ Ryan growled.

Gavin snickered.   _ “Slippery little bastard, aren’t you, Jeremy?” _

_ Slippery.   _ Jeremy shuddered.  He sure was  _ now,  _ after the killer made sure of it, slowly tonguing him open and pressing slickness inside him, getting him  _ wet,  _ getting him ready for...

Trying to push the thoughts aside, Jeremy turned to look at the room he had entered.

“Room” might have been an understatement. He was standing in a vast cavern, the roof of which was so far overhead that his light barely reached it, illuminating flashes of thick, sharp stalactites like the teeth of some horrible monster. He was far from the manmade path of the abandoned mine.  This was nature’s domain. The ground on which he stood was the edge of a silent shoreline, still water stretching out before him like a sheet of glass. 

There was no way forward, unless he wanted to swim. There was no way back, except past the killer. Maybe they had wandered away, but maybe they were still prowling on the other side of the tunnel, like a cat who had cornered a mouse.  Waiting for it to come out.

...Fuck, he was gonna have to do it. Swim out into that silent water and hope like hell there was dry land on the other side. 

His teammates had told him to keep his clothes dry. Maybe the water was shallow enough that he could carry them across. He didn’t know. What he  _ did _ know was that he couldn’t risk it. Didn’t have the time to scout ahead and then come back for them. Not if the killer was gonna fixate on him like that. If he was gonna win-- which seemed more and more unlikely, the longer he went without finding any boxes-- he would have to do it wearing nothing but a smile.

He undressed quickly, letting his clothes fall in a pile on the rocky shore, but actually entering the water gave him pause. 

It was so  _ still _ . It looked as though it had been undisturbed for years.  _ More _ than years. Or, at least, since the last time the Fakes had used this map.  It was odd to think about it, how the only human touch to ever disturb these waters was the touch of dead men walking, crime lords who only came here to slaughter each other.

The water was  _ clear _ . With Jeremy’s headlamp pointed down, he could see every detail of the bottom. If there was something down there...something he’d have been happier never knowing about...a blind, eyeless fish, or, fuck, the body of one of his teammates... he’d be able to see it. Every pale, horrid detail.

With a reluctant whine, Jeremy tiptoed closer to the glassy edge of the water.  God, this was going to  _ suck. _

A sudden grunt over the com made him freeze.

_ “MOTHERFUCK--” _

The com was flooded with splashing static, the distinctive sound of water churning around a mic, frothing with bubbles.  

_ “Who’s that? Who’s getting slit?”  _ Gavin’s voice, sharp with unease.

_ “Damn, Geoff must be really pent up. It’s been forever since he was the killer.” _

_ “Oh, believe me, I would fucking love to kill all of you right now.  But I CAN’T!” _

Someone gasped, harsh and panicked, a the pitter patter of water drops in the background.  Jeremy recognized Michael’s voice, practically screaming over the com.

_ “F-f-fuck, killer’s got me!” _

A rushing sound flooded the feed, accompanied by splashing. The killer and the victim transmitting audio simultaneously.  Jeremy could picture it too vividly -- a hand fisted in Michael’s hair, holding his head under while he thrashed.

_ “Michael!”   _ Gavin sounded as panicked as Michael was.  _  “Michael, are you dead?” _

For a few horrible seconds, there was no response but frantic splashing and screams muffled by water.  Then, coughing. A gasp. Sounds of shifting clothing.

_ “G-god damn, fucker keeps shoving my head under-- bastard’s right behind me, d-don’t know who-”   _ A strained groan.   _ “H-handsy motherfucker -- nnnh, god, he keeps-- grabbing me--” _

Jeremy’s heart was beating fast, body frozen in place. Standing, naked, before the still water. There were no ripples. This wasn’t where Michael was behind held. The killer must be holding him over one of the deeper puddles Jeremy had passed on his way to the tunnel, little bit of water not worth wading into, but more than sufficient to drown someone in.

Fuck, whoever it was might not be about to  _ slit _ Michael. They might just hold his head under instead.  Drowned in the dark, a rough hand holding him under, no light and no air, just fruitless thrashing until the last of the bubbles faded… Jeremy took a step back from the water, suddenly far less okay with the idea of wading in.

A pained noise slipped through the com, a long, low whine, followed by gasps, as though the victim would be okay if only they could draw enough air.  Jeremy bit his lip, then cast his gaze towards the tunnel he had emerged from.

…The killer was busy with Michael.  They weren’t waiting on the other side of the tunnel.  He could get down on his belly and crawl back through…

Fuck, if he had the balls to go back into a cramped space ever again.

_ “Michael?”   _ Jack sounded nervous.  _  “Y-you don’t sound like you’re getting the foreplay Jeremy did.” _

_ “S-sorry my death isn’t g-getting you off! Being f-fucking rough with me, c-cutting-” _

More splashing. Too much, too  _ long _ . By the time Michael was allowed to resurface, Jeremy felt like  _ he  _ couldn’t breathe.

_ “P-point taken, you fuck! I’m h-having the best death of my life over here! F-feels awesome-- Fuck! Oh, fuck--!” _

“Who is it?”  Jeremy tried to get the words out quickly.  “Micheal, can you tell who’s grabbed you? Listen for a voice!”

For a while, the only sound was Michael’s breathing.  At length, he swallowed.

_ “I… I can’t.”   _ The anger was gone from his voice, replaced by a heavy defeat.   _ “I can’t tell you.” _

“Can’t?”

A noise of helpless pain through the com.   _ “Killer m-made me an offer.  I’ll… I’ll fuckin’ take it, you bastard.  Okay? I’ll take it.” _

A rustle, and then a thump.  Michael sounded choked, tight with fear.

_ “F-f-fuck, I’m lookin’ at ‘em right now, c-can’t fucking tell you who it is-- god, I’m sorry, guys--” _

_ “What do you mean, an offer?”   _ Ryan sounded uneasy.   _ “Michael, what did they offer you?” _

Michael was almost sobbing.   _ “I-I-I can’t tell you-- oh god I’m gonna die-- ” _

Michael screamed, long and loud, sound echoing bizarrely through the cave. Jeremy could hear it clearly through his com. And across the still water, a distorted wail. 

_ That should be me.  _

The thought came unbidden, a cold realization that made him shiver. The killer had been  _ gentle _ with him. Never used the knife as more than insurance. Made sure he  _ liked _ it. That it was  _ pleasurable _ . 

What Michael was experiencing… that wasn’t pleasure.

Fuck, he could picture it. The killer’s hand on the back of Michael’s head, twisted in his soft hair, ready to  _ push _ . The other hand gripping the knife, wandering across his body. Exploring. Squeezing.  _ Slicing _ .  Helpless flesh for the taking.

Oh god, he wanted to be the one taking it.

Words were spilling out before Jeremy realized he was speaking. “I-is the killer still taking requests?” 

Silence. Far, far too much silence. Then...

Michael’s voice was stiff.   _ “W-well, they’ve stopped s-slicing, so...go on, I guess…” _

Oh fuck.  Fuck, the killer was going to let him do this.  It took Jeremy a moment to collect himself. He tried to keep the image in his head: Michael, pinned down and sliced up, chest heaving with pain, waiting for the killer… waiting for  _ Jeremy…  _ to decide what would happen to him next.  Jeremy took a deep breath.

“Kill Michael how he likes. Make it… m-make it good.”

Seconds passed. It seemed, to Jeremy, that no one in the cave was moving. Was even daring to draw breath.

“Make it good for him, because-- because I want to hear it.” Fuck, he was talking himself deeper and deeper into danger, but he couldn’t fucking  _ stop-- _ “I want to get off to it like the rest of the crew did, b-because-- because I’m still h-hard as fuck from what you did to me.”

_ “F-fuck, Jeremy...” _ Michael’s voice, words little more than a whisper. _ “That’s a hell of a thing to- Oh! Ohhh…. mmh, y-yes--” _

Jeremy touched his com, hungry for details.  “What’s happening? Tell me what he’s doing.”

_ “H-hand in my hair, nose t-touching the water, knife’s gone, other hand on my c-cock--” _

“O-oh fuck.”

Michael’s voice was a miserable whimper, broken by moans.   _ “Nnnh oh fuuuuuck me, I’m gonna f-fucking get off while he drowns me--” _

_ Drown. _ Again, Jeremy glanced at the dark, clear water. Shit, he  _ needed _ to step into the still water,  _ needed _ to keep moving… and he could do it without anyone hearing him, if he waited until the splashing started.  He could cover his escape with the sounds of Michael dying.

_ “Mmmh...Oh fuck, just like that...h-harder…” _

Sudden violent splashing filled the com. Muffled noises of distress. Jeremy panted, paralyzed by the image of Michael struggling to pull his face above the water while his dick was still twitching in the killer’s hand--

Shit, he had to get moving.  He took a deep breath and plunged into the dark water.

_ Fuck _ , it was cold. He shuddered. Forced himself in further. Step after step splashing loudly in his ears. The noises in his com were already fading, Michael’s struggles weakening.  Jeremy lunged forward. Fell to his knees, submerged himself to the neck, cold a violent shock straight to his core--

The splashes faded into silence. 

_ “...Michael?” _ Gavin didn’t sound hopeful.  _ “Michael, are you dead?” _

There was no reply. 

Gavin whimpered.   _ “Oh god.” _

_ “One down, _ ” murmured Geoff.   _ “Shit, I need a gun.” _

Jack sounded spooked.   _ “I-I don’t like that we still don’t know who it is.  Who the fuck do I shoot?” _

_ “Jack, you killed two people last time without anyone knowing it was you.” _

_ “Y-yeah, but I did it quick!  They never even saw me! The killer this time is-- fuck, he’s toying with people for all of us to hear, and we still don’t know who it is!” _

_ “Right on, killer,”  _ piped up Gavin.  There was a nervous edge to his voice.   _ “Talented lad, he is.  Wish I could be that slick.” _

_ “Uh... why are you praising the killer?”  _ Ryan asked.

Gavin sighed glumly.   _ “Hoping someone might slip up and say ‘thank you.’” _

Jeremy stretched out slowly, careful to keep his arms underwater, nothing but his head above the surface. Kicked off slowly, moving without breaking the surface. Only his head above water, silent ripples betraying him as he swam.

Jack squeaked in alarm.   _ “G-Geoff!” _

_ “Wh-whoa, Jack, point that gun somewhere else--!” _

_ “Geoff I’m gonna need you to stay right the fuck there!” _

_ “O-okay, okay, I’ll just go back the way I came--” _

A click over the com, the distinctive sound of a gun’s safety flicking off.

_ “Geoff, I said stay right the fuck there.” _

_ “J-Jack, come on, it’s not me--” _

_ “Shoot him!”  _ Gavin sounded almost panicked.   _ “It’s gotta be him, he’s been shifty from the start!” _

_ “What?  How have I been shifty?” _

The shouting was covering up the splashes that Jeremy made.  He held his breath and tried to swim faster. Fuck, the water was getting deep.  His feet barely brushed the rocky bottom, even when he stilled, let them drift downward, reaching for it.  He thought he could see the other side, his light flashing over something that might have been wet rock instead of shifting water...

Jack’s voice was almost pleading.   _ “R-Ryan?” _

_ “I -- I don’t know.  I-I think it might be Geoff.  It’s not me or you or Michael, and I don’t think Gavin could keep his mouth shut for that long.” _

_ “Oi!” _

_ “Jeremy, you had his goddamn tongue on your ass, was it Geoff?” _

Jeremy’s breath was loud, far too loud, as he struggled to think and tread water.

“I… f-fuck, I don’t--”

_ “Jeremy, it’s not me!” _

“I--”  Jeremy clenched his teeth on a whine.  “I-I think it’s Geoff!”

Geoff let out a low, angry breath.   _ “Swear to god, Jack, you’re gonna regret this--” _

A gunshot rang out over the com. Jeremy jolted at the sound, sending out ripples.  He listened hard in the sudden silence, like the shot had carved a hole in the darkness and all sound had fallen in.

...Fuck;  _ he’d  _ made a sound. In the cavernous silence left by the gunshot, he’d  _ splashed,  _ letting everyone know there was someone in the water.  

None of that mattered if Geoff was dead.  If Geoff was the killer. If Jack’s one shot had found its mark.  If Jack wasn’t bleeding out on the cave floor right now, with Geoff smirking as he wiped her blood off the knife.  If Geoff was the killer. Maybe, five minutes from now, Jeremy could be on his way out of the cave, back to the helicopter and the sunlight with a warm blanket around his shoulders.

Fuck fuck fuck the silence wouldn’t  _ end. _

_ “...I… I got him.”  _

Jack’s voice answered only one question.  Her soft murmur felt far too loud even over the com, echoing in the silence.

_ “I shot Geoff. It was him, right? He was the killer?” _

_ “H-had to be.”   _ Ryan didn’t sound as certain as his words.   _ “ … Right?” _

Jeremy swallowed.  “Check his pockets.  Find out for sure.”

Jeremy heard rustling. He  _ felt _ more than heard his teammates waiting, not daring to draw breath as Jack searched the body of the man she’d just shot.

_ “It’s not-”  _ More rustling, sounds growing frantic.  _ “I can’t- It’s not here! He doesn’t have the knife!” _

The com beeped.

_ “Woooo, this is ghost Geoff.  For the last goddamn fucking time, you idiots: It. Wasn’t. Me.” _

With a second beep, the com went silent.  Silence stretched through the caves as the reality sunk in.

_ “Oh...shit,”  _ breathed Jack. __ Jeremy could hear the tremor in her voice.  _ “Sh-shit shit shit…” _

Jeremy’s heart thumped.  The game wasn’t over. The killer was still out there, creeping through the shadows, and now there were only three victims left.  And one of them...

“J-Jack?”  Jeremy licked his dry lips, almost scared to say it.  “You… you have to cuff yourself now, don’t you?”

_ “Sh-shit--!” _

_ “Jack, find somewhere to hide.”   _ Ryan’s voice was urgent.   _ “Turn off your headlamp first.  Just sit tight, Geoff’ll let you out at some point.” _

Gavin’s breath caught, as though something had just occurred to him.   _ “Keep your gun out in the open, yeah?  We can use that!” _

Fuck. The gun. Gavin was talking about the possibility of finding a bullet and firing it again, the same trick Jeremy had  _ almost _ used against him. But he wasn’t telling Jack to do it. He was assuming someone was going to need to loot it off her still-warm body.

Jeremy was almost to the shore now, dark thoughts distracting him from the chill of the water, the heaviness growing in his arms and legs. His feet hit solid ground, and he staggered forward, air chilling him as his body was exposed. Fuck, he was making noise. He didn’t mean to be making noise. God, sixty-two degrees sure felt a  _ hell _ of a lot colder when you were wet and naked.  He was almost grateful for the burning adrenaline, keeping his heart pumping and his muscles warm.

A tunnel curved off to his right. Jeremy followed it, walking aimlessly.  Gun parts, he needed gun parts  _ now.   _ The light of his lamp illuminated tall, pillared rock formations, stalactites and stalagmites that had joined together over centuries, still trickling with water. They would’ve been perfect for someone to hide behind; ambush the first person who came past… but they would also be excellent markers to keep track of hidden boxes.

Jeremy circled them, stepping from one to the other like they were trees in a forest. A towering forest made of dark, cold stone. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. There was nothing but his body heat to make the water evaporate. Droplets were still falling at his feet, gravity helping to dry him the same way it had formed the massive structures all around him.

Nothing here. Or, at least... he didn’t  _ think _ there was anything. Maybe he just needed to walk a bit farther down the tunnel...or maybe he should’ve taken one the  _ other _ tunnels instead. Fuck, maybe this was the wrong way--

He glanced backwards, uncertain, and his headlamp flicked across the shape of a  _ person- _ -

Jeremy almost lost his footing as he stumbled back, heart in his throat.  “J-Jesus Christ,  _ Ryan _ ?”

Sheepishly, Ryan held up a hand to shield his eyes from Jeremy’s headlamp.  “... Hey, Jer.”

“F-fuck, wh-what the shit are you doing creeping around in the dark like that?  With your fucking light off and everything --”

“Just sharing yours.” Ryan held his hands up, open and visible. Non-threatening. “It’s a pretty good strategy, down here. Your light gives you away. So, if you can do without…”

“You could have fucking  _ said  _ something,” Jeremy snarled.

“And tip you off?  I’ll admit that it sounded pretty real when you were getting allegedly fucked, but I can’t know for  _ sure  _ you didn’t fake it to throw us off.”

Jeremy let out a tense breath, not knowing what else to say.  Fuck, he still felt jittery from the shock of another person sneaking up behind him.  “W-well, it’s fucking creepy,” he said at last.

“No argument there.” Cautiously, Ryan stepped closer, giving Jeremy an assessing look. “...Guess you went swimming?”

Jeremy swallowed.  His bare body suddenly felt  _ very  _ bare.  “Yeah, I...got stuck. Only way out.”

“And had to skinny-dip?  Hmm. Tragedy.” 

Jeremy stepped back as Ryan moved, then froze as he realized Ryan was sliding his own jacket off.  He didn’t move as Ryan approached him, holding it out. Muscular arms exposed between black gloves and the sleeves of his dark t-shirt. 

“Bet you’re cold.”

The warm, heavy leather wrapped around his shoulders. Jeremy shivered gratefully as the dark fabric fell against his bare body.  Warmth from Ryan was still locked inside, a welcome heat against Jeremy’s chilled skin. The jacket had  _ weight  _ to it, and a familiar cozy smell that comforted Jeremy almost as much as the warmth.

“You’re wet,” murmured Ryan.

Jeremy froze. “What?”

_ Wet and slick from the killer's hungry tongue-- _

Ryan stroked the base of his neck, smearing the lingering drops of water.

“...Oh.”  Jeremy tried not to shiver at the touch.  “Yeah. Uh. That happens when you go swimming.” 

“Mmm. Jacket looks good on you.” Ryan’s hand rested on his shoulder, shifting Jeremy slightly. Assessing him. “You should wear black more often.”

Jeremy managed a crooked smile.  “M-maybe I’ll steal your clothes.”

“Only if I don’t have to steal yours.”

“Mmm, no, purple isn’t your color.  But don’t feel pressured to wear clothes on my behalf.”

Ryan bit his lip.  “You neither. I’ve gotta say, following you from behind was a damn good view.”  He leaned closer, dangerously close, almost whispering in Jeremy’s ear. “The killer really  _ did  _ bite you, huh?  I could see the teeth marks.”

The memory was instant and vivid, hands on his thighs and a hungry mouth sinking teeth into his skin.  Jeremy shuddered. Ryan’s hand slipped off his shoulder and slid down, ducking under the too-long jacket, finding his bare ass.  Pressing against the bite marks.

It was a dangerous amount of closeness and contact, but Jeremy was hard and Ryan  _ had  _ to be hard and neither of them were pulling away.

“Fuck, J…”  Ryan’s voice was lower, heavier, rapidly becoming his bedroom voice as his fingers brushed over the still-stinging bite mark.  “Know I should move on, get a gun together, get the killer before he gets Jack, but...you’re making it real hard. Standing there in nothing but my coat, fucking  _ marks _ on you. Bet you’re already prepped, too. Sure  _ sounded _ like it.”

“Nnh--”  Jeremy’s breath hitched as Ryan  _ pressed  _ on the bite mark _ ,  _ a tantalizing throb of pain.  “F-fuck, Ryan-- a-absolutely gonna get me killed--”

_ “Guys?”  _ Jack sounded nervous.   _ “N-no rush, but I’m going to die if someone doesn’t get a gun.” _

Ryan pulled Jeremy closer.  Breathing the next words against his ear. 

“I should go rescue her, shouldn’t I? Pretty damsel in distress. She  _ needs _ me, Jeremy. But you need me too, don’t you?”  He squeezed Jeremy’s ass, groaning softly. “Need something bigger than  _ fingers _ inside you.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck he was  _ hard.   _ Jeremy almost gasped when Ryan pressed a gloved finger against him, nudging at his slicked-up hole.  Fuck, he wanted someone to  _ finish  _ what the killer had started.  It was too tempting to forget the danger, to bend over the nearest rock and let Ryan--

_ “Jeremy!”  _ Jack’s voice, sharp and urgent in his ear.  _ “Jeremy, you never said anything about fingers!” _

“W-what?”  The words didn’t make sense.  Jeremy struggled to form coherent speech through his haze of arousal.  “What are you talking about?”

_ “You never said you were getting fingered! How does Ryan know?” _

...Oh.

Jeremy gaze slowly lifted to Ryan.   Ryan cocked his head, smile gone for just a heartbeat.  It crept back as he sighed.

“... Jack, Jack...”  Ryan’s hand tightened on Jeremy’s ass, changing from a fondle to a dangerously firm grip. “You’re too damn clever, Jack.  I guess I have to kill you now.”

A soft, sharp  _ flick  _ echoed in the cave.  Jeremy couldn’t pull back quickly enough, and his breath froze as the edge of a blade pressed against his neck.

“K-kill which of us?”

“Well… Jack’s all wrapped up like a present waiting for me.”  Ryan murmured as he dragged the knife teasingly across Jeremy’s neck, not quite breaking skin.  “And you… you’re right  _ here,  _ Jeremy.  Already in my hands, and so… tantalizing.”

“I-I’ll let you fuck me first,” Jeremy blurted.  His chest heaved as the knife pressed, almost painful against his neck.  “Y-you can take your time, I’ll be good --”

“Mmh.”  The knife flicked, and Jeremy winced as it opened a hair-thin slice.  “That’s right. You  _ will  _ be good.”

“I-I’ll do anything you want!”

“Anything?”

Ryan grabbed the back of his neck, fingers digging in painfully, exposing his throat. Shit shit shit shit, he should never have let Ryan get this close, he was gonna  _ die-- _

“Then  _ run.” _

Ryan shoved him away, throat un-slit. Jeremy stumbled in the darkness, trembling too hard to follow the command. Ryan smirked and flicked his gloved thumb over the knife.

“I like a chase.  Give me a good one.  You can listen to what I do to Jack while you work.”

“You--” Jeremy’s hand drifted up, pressing against his uninjured neck. Unable to take his eyes off of Ryan. “You k-know where she is?”

“You’re pretty far off the beaten path, Jeremy.” Ryan saluted him with a black-gloved hand, turning to stride away into the darkness. “Not safe to be out here unarmed!”

The beaten path....Oh, fuck. If Ryan was implying what he  _ thought _ he was implying…

God, he was an idiot.  The whole damn game took place on the marked path, where he’d started.  That’s where the boxes must be, all the other players, that’s why everyone else was running into each other while Jeremy was all alone -- the dark natural caves were just for running and hiding and stalking, trying to shake a killer off your trail, and he’d been wasting his whole damn game here--

In the distance, a light flashed on. Motion-activated, calling spelunkers back to safety. Jeremy started running.

\----

The trail lights, so dim when Jeremy first saw them, were vibrant as daylight now.  The trail was blissfully flat and level under his bare feet as Jeremy ran along the trail.  Motion-activated lights flickered on as he approached them.

Fuck fuck fuck he was an  _ idiot  _ who didn’t know these maps, and it got him killed every time--

A box lay on the stone floor up ahead.  Jeremy flew towards it, bare feet slipping on the rocky ground as he came to a stop.

Empty.

_ “Hi, Jack.” _

The sound of Ryan’s voice in the com almost made Jeremy freeze.  He could hear Jack whimper.

_ “...H-hi, Ryan...” _

_ “Aww, look at you, all holed up in a dark corner.  Just like I told you to be.” _

_ “Sh-shit…” _

_ “You’re not going to run, are you?  You know that’ll only make this messy.” _

Jeremy sucked in a sharp breath and kept running.  Ryan’s jacket flapped around him with each pump of his arms, too big for him, unwieldy in the still silence.  Fuck, Ryan must’ve known a quicker way to get to Jack. Must’ve known a shortcut. Some hole he could’ve ducked into to turn a twenty-minute run into a two-minute crawl; skip the winding maze of lights and guardrails.  Unlike him, Ryan knew this map. He’d even said it was one of his favorites.

Ryan chuckled over the com.   _ “Good girl...” _

Another box. Fuck, they’d all been right here.  _ Right here _ . Jeremy dashed forward, skidding to a stop over it. 

Empty.

Fuck, he was too late. 

Lights were winking out behind him, going dark with no further movement to keep them lit. Soft, velvety blackness following him, silent as a shadow. Like Ryan, stalking him through the darkness. 

“Gavin?” Jeremy’s voice was strained.  “Y-you’d better have some gun parts, buddy.”

_ “O-only one!  Jeremy, I’m scared--” _

Ryan was humming.   _ “Mm, looks like I’m getting a three course meal.  Starting with dessert…” _

Jack gasped _ ,  _ and Jeremy’s heart jumped.  “J-Jack!”

_ “Shhh.”   _ Ryan’s voice was dangerously gentle.   _ “I can’t unbutton your shirt if you squirm.  I’d hate to use the knife to get your clothes off.  Be a shame to cut such a pretty bra.” _

Oh god.  Jeremy was frozen, chest heaving, listening as though he could pull images from Ryan’s voice.

_ “...Be a shame to cut such a pretty chest, too… wouldn’t it?” _

Jeremy took a deep breath and kept running.

A bend in the trail. Three steps, carved from rock. A puddle, which he splashed through. A slow descent, rock floor sloping like a pockmarked ramp.

Another box. 

Empty.

“Fuck!” As soon as the barked curse slipped out of him, Jeremy slapped a horrified hand over his mouth.  The word echoed in the caves, repeating down the tunnels, his own voice scampering off to tattle on him.

Ryan chuckled.   _ “Is that a request, Jeremy?  You know… I do take requests.” _

“F-fuck…”  This time the word was quieter, whimpered between his fingers.  “H-holy shit…”

_ “Come on, Jeremy.  My treat. She’s all scared and helpless, I can feel her shaking.  What should I do to her?” _

“Nnnh…”  Jeremy swallowed.  “B-be… be gentle with her, please.”

Ryan sighed.   _ “...I should have clarified.  I take  _ good  _ requests.” _

A sudden, violent noise ripped through the com, and Jack screamed.  He could hear Ryan groan, breath growing heavier.

_ “Wish you were here, Jeremy?  She’s so… soft. Feels good under my hands.” _

Another noise of pain from Jack, tapering into a shuddering moan.

_ “... And my knife.” _

Jeremy forced his shaking legs to keep running, breath coming hard and fast. Each pounding footfall reverberated up his bare legs.

_ “And my… nnnh… cock.” _

Across a rope bridge. Over still, dark water. Up four steps. Down two. Around a wide, thick rock formation, the water that had formed it still trickling silently down from above.

Up ahead, a light was already lit.  

Jeremy could see two figures under it, pressed close and intimate and  _ still _ . Not struggling. He stepped closer, bare feet hardly making a sound. Not daring to hurry, to breathe--

Ryan had Jack cornered against a wall, his hand on her throat and his thigh pressed between her shaking legs.  Jack’s chest was bared, bright shirt unbuttoned and pushed down her shoulders, exposing her soft breasts and a collection of dripping red kisses from Ryan’s knife.  Jack’s gaze had gone hazy, her breath shallow as she stared up at Ryan almost reverently.

Jeremy watched, enraptured, as the knife pressed. Careful, considered movement, leaving a mark like a lipstick stamp. Jack gasped, stiffened--  _ pressed _ against Ryan as she rode out the pain, bodies working together, little push-pull of hips driven by the blade of the knife.

Her expression changed as she caught sight of him over Ryan’s shoulder. Less pleasure, more fear. And not fear for herself. Jeremy could  _ see _ the moment Ryan noticed. Ryan turned slowly,  gaze flicking to Jeremy. His smile grew, and Jack made a helpless noise as he traced the knife between her breasts.

“Cutting her so good, Jeremy. You want a taste? Think it’s time for me to move on, now?”

Jeremy couldn’t move.  Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t look away.

Ryan raised the knife, finding Jack’s throat with his gaze still focused on Jeremy.  “What do  _ you _ think, Jack? Any final requests?”  He nuzzled her hair, whispering. “You had  _ so  _ many ideas last time.  I could hear how horny you were over the com, naughty girl.  What do you think? How should I kill him?”

“Nnnh…” Jack shifted against Ryan’s body, hips pressing forward, even as beads of red began to slide out from around the knife. “K-kill him softly.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” The knife  _ slid _ . Jack made a choked, gasping noise, eyes wide and locked on Jeremy’s. Both killer and victim, staring him down.

Ryan stepped away from the wall. Let Jack’s body fall to the ground. Advancing on Jeremy with the bloody knife in his hand.

_ “Jeremy.”  _ Gavin’s voice, shaking in his ear. _ “J-just keep him busy, yeah? I-I can do this. It’s gonna be okay.” _

Ryan’s gaze was roaming over Jeremy’s body, like he was already fantasizing about where he wanted to  _ cut.   _ “Who are you trying to convince, Gavin? ‘Cause from where he’s standing… things look very  _ not _ okay for Jeremy Dooley.”

Jeremy ran. Turned and bolted back down the trail. Unwilling to wait for death; to  _ accept _ when there was still another player standing. Unwilling to surrender when the battle wasn’t lost.  Fuck, Ryan said he liked a good chase --

He made it five steps before Ryan tackled him, throwing him to the ground with an impact that knocked the breath out of him.  Jeremy was flipped onto his back while he was still fighting to pull air back into his lungs, struggling against Ryan with more panic than skill, too terrified to fight well--

“Nnnnh,  _ there  _ we go!”  Ryan practically laughed the words, pinning Jeremy’s arm to the stone floor, heavy weight pinning his hips down.  “That’s it, I wanna work up an appetite!”

Jeremy froze as the knife pressed under his chin.  His chest heaved as he stared up at Ryan’s grin. “G-Gavin, hurry!”

Ryan brushed the jacket to the side, baring Jeremy’s chest, hand sliding down as though to feel the terrified rush of Jeremy’s breath.  His gaze followed, eating up the sight of a fresh victim pinned under him. 

“So which do you want, hm?  My knife, or my cock?” 

Jeremy’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He knew Ryan’s end game. Had seen it unfold, even before Jack--  Fuck. Jack. Cuts on her body, leg between her thighs. Ryan could do  _ that _ to him. The look on her face before Ryan had killed her… god, she’d looked so hazy, so lost in the feelings, and he…  he wanted to know what the felt like.

Jeremy was stammering words before he could think better of it.  “F-fuck, gimme both.”

“Oh  _ fuck _ .” Ryan sounded  _ dangerously _ horny. “ _ Fuck _ yeah.”

Jeremy’s com beeped; the noise that let him know the respawn room was about to send a message from beyond the grave. Jack’s voice was gentle in his ear, like a light in the darkness.

_ “You’re safe, Jeremy. He’ll stop if you tell him to.” _

“I- I know.” Jeremy swallowed, hard, as Ryan’s gloved hand slipped between his legs.  “Th-thanks, Jack…”

The com beeped again and went silent.  The dead were silent. There was no one here but Jeremy, lying helpless under the man who was going to kill him.

Ryan’s knife tilted under his jaw, scraping skin.  “I’ve been looking forward to this. When I first opened my box and saw the knife, I almost tipped off Michael by moaning.  Wanted to save you for last, wanted to really  _ enjoy  _ what I do to you.”

Jeremy hadn’t seen Ryan open a lube bottle, but he must have done it, because the gloved finger teasing around his hole was  _ slick.   _ He whined when it slid inside, smooth and easy, as much fear in his voice as pleasure.

“When I saw you half-inside one of those little crawl spaces, ass at just the right height… fuck, how was I supposed to just walk away from that, without even grabbing a  _ taste _ ?”  Ryan slipped in a second finger, pumping slowly, and Jeremy’s toes curled.  “Wasn’t gonna kill you, just wanted to prep you for later. Mmmh, or maybe slide my cock into you right there, fill you up while you wriggled… let you run through the rest of the game with my come dripping down your thigh.”

Jeremy couldn’t hold back a desperate gasp as the third finger squeezed inside him.  God, taking three of Ryan’s fingers was pretty much like taking his cock, a stuffed-full stretch that had Jeremy throbbing.

“...Then again, you might not have survived that.”  The blade dragged down Jeremy’s throat, a harsh reminder.  “Sometimes I get too  _ excited  _ when I have a warm body under my knife.  Can’t help myself.”

God, Ryan’s fingers were sure _fucking_ him like a cock, long, hard thrusts that rocked his body against the cold stone floor.  The jacket stayed warm and dry around him. Like protection.

“Did a good job earlier, didn’t I, Jeremy?  Got you all ready for me. Bet it feels a little different with the gloves on, hm?”

“Nnnh--”

“Mmh, as much as I’d like to really draw this out…”  The fingers pulled out, leaving him wet and empty. “I’m not gonna give Gavin  _ too  _ much time.”

Jeremy caught his breath, anticipation ringing in his ears as Ryan’s gloved hand undid his pants.  His legs tensed when he felt the warm girth of a dick pressing against him.

“Oh, and Jeremy?  You  _ won’t  _ survive this one.”

Ryan  _ shoved _ , sliding into him in one long thrust.  Jeremy’s shout echoed in the cave, his cock throbbing against his tense belly as Ryan groaned above him.

“Nnnh, god, you’re  _ tight...” _

Jeremy could barely breathe. “R-Ryan--”

“There’s my cock, baby.” Harsh words through gritted teeth. “And  _ here’s… _ ”

Pain tore through him, drawing a startled scream.

“....my  _ knife _ .”

Fuck, his chest. Ryan had slashed him, opening a hot, burning gash. He could feel blood already wetting the dark jacket, soaking into the leather.  Too dark for bloodstains to show easily… fuck, how much blood had this battered old jacket tasted? 

“Awww, you’re shaking.”  Ryan’s smile was as sharp as his knife, his breath quick as his hips moved.  “Isn’t that cute. Am I too much for you, baby? Beg me for a quick death, and I’ll give you one.”

Through the heart-pounding terror, the throbbing pain, a memory drifted back to Jeremy.  Gavin, telling him to beg for death. His own voice, obeying.

Ryan… Ryan was giving him a way out.  A way to hit the breaks.

Jeremy wanted to hit the gas.

It took several heaving breaths before he could find his voice.  “F — fuck you.”

Ryan groaned in response, like Jeremy had just squeezed his cock.  “Oh baby, I was hoping to hear you say that…”

The knife dragged across exposed skin, digging in.  Jeremy bucked under Ryan, screaming, hands clawing at the floor.

“Nnnh, that’s it, baby.  Make some pretty music for me.”  Ryan’s hand pressed against the slash, and Jeremy couldn’t hold back another scream. “Give me some pretty pretty  _ red  _ to play with.”

“A-ah--”  Jeremy lurched as Ryan scraped the knife over his fresh wound.  “F-f-fuck--!”

“You want that?  Wanna bleed out for me?”

“I--” Jeremy could hardly draw breath, Ryan’s violent thrusts seeming to knock the air out of him. “I w-want  _ you-- _ ”

“Oh, Jeremy.  _ Good _ answer.” Ryan’s knife found his neck, nicking him with a careless flick. “But you don’t need to worry. I  _ invented _ that trick.”

Another slice, thin and shallow across his neck, a mockery of slitting his throat.  Ryan’s rough hand grabbed his jaw to hold his head still as Jeremy screamed.

“You’re about to see plenty of your own blood, Jeremy.  Gonna bleed you out just like Jack did.” Ryan dragged the flat of his knife over Jeremy’s panting mouth, leaving a red smear on his lips.  “She just gave you one cut, though. I’ll give you  _ many.   _ My cock is gonna be the last thing you feel as your lights go out.”

God, the jacket under him was growing sticky with his blood.  Each breath was a ragged whimper. The pain and the blood loss were making Jeremy’s limbs heavy.  Restraining him even more effectively than Ryan’s weight on top of him.  _ Inside _ him.  He didn’t think he  _ could  _ fight back if he wanted, too weak to do anything but lie there and gasp as Ryan pumped between his legs.

“Nnnh, fuck, now there’s a sight. Fucking  _ sinful _ that Jack got to do this before I did.” Ryan’s laugh was breathless with excitement. “Guess I showed her, huh?”

Rough fingers pressed into the slash on Jeremy’s neck, punching a strangled scream out of him. Drew across his cheek in two curved lines, painting a dripping heart.

“Feeling good, Jeremy? Reminding you of your  _ first _ killer? Fuck, I don’t think she took it far enough. Didn’t draw you  _ near _ enough pretty pictures…”

Ryan shoved the edge of his jacket aside, baring more skin for his blade. He carved a smooth circle, not hesitating when Jeremy strained under him, shouting in pain. “There we go…” Five quick flicks around the edges; short, shallow cuts making him twitch under Ryan’s weight. “Nice little sun for you. I’d paint you a rainbow, Jeremy, but the only color I’ve got is  _ red _ .”

_ Red _ . The word sent a shudder through him. Ryan was still thrusting, still fucking him, insistent pumping blurring together with the frantic thump of his pulse, thrumming in every cut.  Fuck, why did this feel so  _ good _ ?

Ryan’s knife hand was drifting downward, moving to brace himself against the cold stone floor. Gaining leverage to thrust  _ harder _ into him. “Fuck, you’re tight. Not even hurting you and you’re still squeezing me like a goddamn vice.”

Jeremy’s head was starting to loll sideways, weakness seeping down his limbs. Pain and pleasure were at war in his body, and fuck-- pleasure was winning. It was like he couldn’t even keep track of them both; sensations curling around each other until they were one, just a rush of feeling--

“You gonna come, Jeremy?” Quieter now, Ryan breathing soft words against him, body pressing down into his, into the cuts, lighting them up- “Gonna come on my cock before my knife gets you?”

“Y-yeah-- nnh, f-fuck, Ryan--”

“Speak up.” The knife was back, stroking just below his ear, turning the words into an order. “Say it louder for Gavin. Let him know what he’s in for.”

“Oh  _ fuck-- _ ” He’d forgotten about Gavin. Forgotten that he could hear every moan, every  _ scream. _

The knife pressed, starting to sting him. Only just breaking skin.  A vivid image flashed through Jeremy’s mind, the knife slicing through his veins as Ryan  _ came  _ inside him, getting off on Jeremy’s last breath-- 

“Tell. Gavin. What you’re gonna do.”

“G-gonna--” The pleasure was rushing him, making it hard to think. “Gonna c-come on his  _ cock-- _ ”

The last word was a scream, orgasm hitting him with mind-numbing intensity, like Ryan was fucking it out of him. He pressed up, cock jumping between their bodies, shooting hot and thick against Ryan’s dark shirt. Marking him right back.

Oh, fuck.  _ Fuck _ , that felt good. For a few moments the warm, tingling pleasure blotted out everything else.  There was nothing but spinning, floating bliss, the all the emotions and sensations warped into an amazing high, the rhythm of Ryan still moving inside him. Jeremy caught his breath, heartbeat loud in his ears. 

Slowly, the tingling became throbbing.  Aching. At last it distilled into hot twisting pain, pulsing everywhere that Ryan’s knife had dug into his body.

… Fuck, it goddamn  _ hurt  _ to get cut up like this.

Suddenly the harsh way Ryan was pounding him didn’t feel so good. The ache of the cuts was heavier, more insistent as his arousal faded.  The way Ryan was looking at him felt wrong, cold and hungry and uncaring.  _ Alarming _ .  The hands on him were too rough, his heart was beating too fast, the blood loss was making his head spin and he couldn’t make it go still, he wanted it to  _ stop-- _

“S -- safeword!”

Everything stopped. No more pounding, no more rough hands.  No more savage hunger in Ryan’s eyes, just focused concern as he cupped the back of Jeremy’s head, suddenly gentle. 

“I hear you, Jeremy. I’m here. What do you need?”

Jeremy gasped for breath, trying to collect his thoughts through the simultaneous waves of pain and relief. His body sang with agony, but Ryan’s hand was so, so careful.  Jeremy could see no trace of the sadistic killer above him. Just Ryan, watching him, listening carefully for his next words.

“I-I…”  Jeremy had to clear his throat before he could speak.  His voice was hoarse from screaming, and it came out as a weak rasp.  “I-I’ll take that quick death now…”

Ryan’s knife lifted.  “You got it.”

“R-Ryan-!” Jeremy pressed his hand to Ryan’s wrist, stopping the knife before it could touch his neck. “Before you do, lemme -- I  _ wanted  _ to find my limit, yeah?  You did good. You did just what I wanted, I just…”  He shuddered, letting his hand slide down Ryan’s arm, a gentle stroke.  “F-found my limit. It’s, uh, it’s right here. I’m okay. I love you.”

His hand slipped off Ryan’s arm.  Letting the knife loose.

Ryan leaned forward and kissed his forehead, soft and warm, hand gently cradling the back of his head.  Jeremy let out a breath and his eyes closed as he felt the knife touch his neck.

“Love you too, Jeremy.”

The knife  _ cut. _

\----

Air filled his lungs.

The world was warm, soft, and filled with a familiar gentle hum.  Jeremy opened his eyes slowly, letting reality drift back to him at a lazy pace.  The soft, clean lights of the respawn room illuminated three silhouettes. Jeremy blinked, and Jack, Geoff, and Michael slid into focus. Beautiful, whole, and every last one of them smiling down at him.

He cracked a weak smile.  “...Hey, guys.” 

He sat up slowly, palming over his chest, his neck. Reassuring himself that the injuries hadn’t followed him. More a habit at this point than a necessity. The magic of the clone pods was slowly integrating itself into simple, factual reality. 

“Good morning, honey.” Jack was smiling.  They all were. “Would you like touching, or no touching?”

As soon as she said the words, Jeremy realized how much he was aching for gentle skin-on-skin.  He nodded, still bleary from respawning.

“ _ God _ , touching, please.”

Three pairs of hands were on him in an instant, as though his acknowledgement had broken the dam. Stroking his face, rubbing his back, petting his head, or just resting on him to let him know he wasn’t alone.

“We got you some clothes.”

“And hot chocolate!”

“We’re so proud of you.”

“And there’s marshmallows!”

“You did so well.”

“We always have hot chocolate when we play in the cave!”

“We love you.”

“You can have  _ all _ the marshmallows!”

The affection was almost overwhelming, but he didn’t want it to stop, either. Jeremy swung his legs over the edge of the pod, stepping carefully onto the floor. The hands moved with him, careful not to break contact.

“Here.” Michael pressed clothes gently against his chest. “Grabbed these from your room. Thought you’d be more comfortable in your own shit. Since, ‘ya know, you had to leave yours on the shoreline.”

Geoff whistled appreciatively. “And it was fucking  _ spectacular _ , watching you run for your life wearing nothing but the killer’s jacket. Almost worth being gunned down by my close friend and ally who just can’t fucking resist killing me every chance she gets.” 

Jack squinted at him.  “Shut up.”

“It’s never me.”  Geoff shrugged. “No one believes me when I say it.”

Jeremy looked down at the folded clothes in his hands. Yellow and orange and purple...just his everyday things, but  _ fuck _ , they felt  _ right _ . The hands shifted accommodatingly as he dressed.

“Why…” He cleared his throat, tried again without eye contact, gaze on the ground as he shrugged into his jacket. “Why are you all being so...nice?”

“Nice?”  Jack sounded legitimately shocked that he would ask.  “We’re fucking  _ proud _ of you, Jer!”

“But I...I tapped out, though.”

“You told Ryan what you needed,” Michael corrected. “You let him know when it was too much, and what he could do to make you feel better. You _ set boundaries, _ Jeremy. You did  _ good _ .”

“And, I mean, it’s  _ Ryan _ !” Geoff jestured emphatically. “He’s, like, the two-foot dildo of Murder! You’ve gotta know when to  _ stop _ !”

“Everyone has safeworded on him at some point.” Jack pressed a steaming mug of hot chocolate into his hands before pulling him into a hug. “All of us. Every single one.”

Jeremy blinked.  He looked from Jack to Michael to Geoff, trying to picture it.  Trying to picture the toughest people he knew tapping out. “...All of you?”

“Ryan is fucking  _ nuts _ .”  Geoff’s voice was warm with affection.  “It’s a hell of a rush to be under him when he lets the beast out.  But when it’s too much, we say stop, and he listens. That’s how we play.”

Jack squeezed him tighter, nuzzling his shoulder.  “Jeremy, I’m so fucking proud that you took as much as you did. That was amazing!”

“When he started drawing pictures on you, I about creamed my pants,” Michael added.  “You remember when he did that to me? And it got you so worked up you were jerking it an inch from the screen?”  Michael smirked. “ _ He _ remembered.”

For the first time, Geoff’s attention turned away from Jeremy, his gaze drifting to the screen.  “Speaking of which…”

Jeremy’s gaze followed his.  On the screen, Ryan was standing over Jeremy’s body, fingers pressed to his com.  Waiting. Not making a move. The screen flickered to a new feed, and Jeremy could see Gavin doing the same.

The game was paused.  

“Jeremy.”  Geoff’s hand was on his shoulder.  “This is your call. If you’re feeling good, I’ll tell them to keep going.  If you want a full stop, that’s okay too.”

Jeremy kept his eyes on the screen.  It was nice, comforting, to see the dark horror of the cave isolated to pixels, something for him to  _ watch  _ rather than  _ live.   _ The memory of pounding fear and helpless pain were fading.  His body felt whole, safe, warm, comfortable. The hot chocolate was warming his hands, and…

… And he wondered how many gun parts Gavin had.  If it would be enough to stop Ryan.

Jeremy nodded.  “I want them to keep going.”

Geoff gave his shoulder one more squeeze before walking to the mic that loomed in front of the screen.  He flicked it on and leaned close.

“Wooooo, this is ghost Geoff.  Jeremy’s doing just fine in the afterlife, so we’re gonna keep running the game if you’re both cool with it.”

_ “Is Jeremy all right?”  _ Ryan pressed.  As though Geoff hadn’t just confirmed as much.  As though  _ nothing  _ Geoff could have said would have stopped him from asking.

Geoff sighed.  “Yes, you big softie, Jeremy’s fine.  He’s being smothered in hugs and hot chocolate and he can’t keep his eyes off the screen.  Ghost Jeremy, you wanna come tell Ryan you’re okay?”

Jeremy nodded.  He approached the screen and leaned towards the mic.

“ … Ryan?”  He cleared his throat.  “I mean… woooooooo, Ryan?”

Ryan’s fingers pressed urgently against his com.   _ “Jeremy?” _

“I’m doing fine, okay?”  He smiled. “What you did to me was hot,  _ you’re _ hot, go kill Gavin.  I’ll be watching.”

Gavin gasped over the com.   _ “Oi!  These ghosts are taking sides!” _

Ryan was starting to smile.  Jeremy could see the tension leaving those broad shoulders.   _ “…You got it, ghost Jeremy.”   _ His hand dropped away from the com and he wiped his knife off on his jeans.  _ “Ghost Geoff?  If you would?” _

Geoff chuckled and raised his voice.  “Let’s play Murder, boys!”

As though released from chains, Gavin bolted, rushing down the tunnel with clear determination.  On the other feed, Ryan bent over Jeremy’s limp body, fumbling with something. In the respawn room, current Jeremy frowned over his hot chocolate. Ryan didn’t have much use for bodies post-mortem, what could he be doing…?

Jeremy’s face broke into a wide grin as Ryan straightened up again. The jacket, that’s what he’d been after. Slipping it back on like a borrowed hoodie now returned, familiar black and blue leather fitting much better on Ryan’s broad shoulders than it did on Jeremy’s. He wondered if the coat smelled like him, like his sweat, fear, blood. 

As Ryan adjusted the sleeves, Jeremy caught sight of a darkened patch, standing out against the wash-faded black. Red and wet.  The microphone was too tempting, he couldn’t help it.

“Woooooo, Ryan! You know you’re wearing my blood, right?”

_ “Damn right I am!” _ Ryan grinned, standing up a little straighter. He tugged proudly on his jacket, as though to show off the stain.   _ “Like a fuckin’ rose in my lapel!”  _

“Okay, that’s...that’s hot as fuck--”

_ “Oi, Ghost Jeremy! You can haunt Ryan’s ass some other time, yeah?” _

Geoff gave Jeremy a rueful smile as he muted the mic.  “You’re a chatty fuckin’ ghost.”

“Can’t help it, I’m excited.”  Jeremy set down his hot chocolate without looking away from the screen.  “Wanna know what happens next…”

Ryan strode away from Jeremy’s body, in the direction that he’d killed Jack.  He kept the knife in his hand, idly smearing his gloved fingers through the drying blood.

_ “Gaviiiiiiiin…” _  Ryan sang the name sweetly as he prowled down the tunnel.   _ “Hiding will only draw this out.  You don’t really want to suffer for longer, do you?” _

His boots seemed too quiet on the slick cave floor.  Jeremy was barely breathing, listening for a sound. Watching every shadow. 

_ “You’re so scared… aren’t you?  Heart pounding in the darkness, knowing I’m hunting you.  You don’t have to run. Once I find you, all that awful uncertainty will just… go away.” _

Fresh arousal was pooling in Jeremy’s belly, simmering with the tension of watching the game unfold.  He pulled his gaze away from the screen long enough to glance at Michael. Michael was just as enraptured as he was, eyes glued to the screen, mouth slightly parted but not daring to breathe too loud, lest he miss the faintest noise.

“Hey.”  Jeremy murmured softly.  “Michael.”

It was with difficulty that Michael pulled his gaze away.  “Yeah?”

Jeremy bit his lip, his voice a savage whisper.  “My boyfriend is gonna  _ fuck up _ your boyfriend.”

Michael’s cheeks flushed in response.  He turned back to the screen with a barely-muffled whine.

“C-come on, Gavvy…”

The feed flickered, showing Gavin huddled in a dark corner.  His face was pale with fear, his eyes on the tunnel as he waited and listened.  After a moment, he took a breath and began to creep down the tunnel. Something about the area looked familiar.

“He’s--”  Jeremy’s eyes widened.  “H-holy shit, he’s  _ following  _ Ryan.”

Gavin rounded a corner and froze as he saw Jeremy’s body lying on the floor.  Visibly bracing himself, he tiptoed around it and continued down the tunnel after Ryan.

Michael leaned back with a gasp and pointed at the screen.  “That’s what he’s been doing! The whole time Ryan had you, Gavin looked like he was following something.  He was following your fucking  _ screams _ !”

“Why?  Why the fuck does he want to be  _ closer  _ to Ryan?”

“Because--”  Jack pressed a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.  “...Because you died near me, and I had the gun.  He’s after my gun. He must have found a bullet for it.”

Geoff sounded breathless.  “Fucking hell, Gavin, that’s ballsy...”

Gavin slid along walls nervously, peering around each corner before rounding it.  Jeremy could practically hear his racing heart. The prey to Ryan’s predator. On the other feed, Ryan brushed his fingers against his com, as though he could touch Gavin through it.  When he spoke, it was a low voice that felt like a hand sliding between Jeremy’s legs. 

_ “Gavin?  When I find you, I’m gonna play with you.  Did you like hearing what I did to your buddies?  All those sweet, sweet noises they made for me… I’m all worked up, Gavin.  They got me hungry. And you’re gonna satisfy me.”  _

This time, Gavin couldn’t hold back a strained whimper.   _ “...R-Ryan...” _

Ryan’s cold gaze jumped, scanning the tunnel.  He turned around, looking back the way he came.  After a moment of thought, he began walking back towards Jeremy’s body.  

Towards Gavin.

_ “That’s it, baby, make a little noise.  Let me come find you. You’re close, aren’t you?” _

On the other feed, Gavin let out a thin squeak and pressed himself into a crevice.  He flicked his headlamp off and pressed a hand over his own mouth as Ryan approached.

No one in the respawn room breathed as Ryan strolled to a stop mere feet from where Gavin was hiding.

Ryan rubbed his thumb over the edge of the knife.   _ “Do you want to know what I offered Michael before I killed him?” _

Jeremy could see Gavin tense in the darkness.  Ryan waited, thoughtfully testing the edge of the knife.  After what seemed like an eternity, he kept walking down the tunnel.

_ “I held the knife to his throat, so hard I could feel the pulse struggling under my blade.  I whispered to him that if he kept quiet about who I was while I… had my fun… that I’d kill you last.” _

Jeremy cast a stunned look at Michael.  Michael didn’t meet his eye, his breath quick as he watched the screen.

_ “You know, Gavin, I found you once or twice in the darkness.  Close enough I could have grabbed a squeeze. Could have sunk my knife into you.  But I’m a killer of my word, so I waited.”  _ He slid around a corner, knife flicking eagerly in his hand.   _ “You think Michael was trying to save you, Gav?  Or do you think he just wanted to see what I’d do to you when I had allllll the time in the world?” _

Something  _ clicked  _ behind Ryan.  He spun, knife in hand, but the smile melted off his face as he saw the loaded gun that Gavin had aimed at his head.

_ “Nah, I think Michael was doin’ right by me.”   _ Gavin flicked the safety off as Ryan staggered back.   _ “This one’s for you, Michael boy.” _

His finger squeezed, and a  _ bang  _ echoed in the tunnel like a thunderclap.  

“OOOOOOOOOOH--”  Michael’s whoop echoed in the respawn room, his arms thrown up in victory.  “Gavin you beautiful fucking bastard, what a finale! Holy shit! I’m gonna give you twenty blowjobs for that, you sexy lunatic!”

The respawn room was filled with cheers.  In spite of himself, Jeremy couldn’t help but join in.

Geoff was laughing as he un-muted the mic.  “Gavin, that was the most incredible ending to a game I’ve seen in ages!  Good fucking shot!”

On the screen, Gavin lowered the shaking gun, slowly sat down on the floor, and then lay down on his back with a long groan.

_ “Hooooooooo bugger me, I survived by a bloody hair!”   _ He rubbed his hands over his face, moaning between his fingers.   _ “Lord, my head is spinning.  I thought Ryan was gonna carve me up and eat me like a steak!” _

“Gavin!”  Michael shouldered Geoff out of the way so he could speak into the mic.  “Gavin, I take back every time I ever called you stupid, all several billion times I’ve done it!  That was the most epic thing I’ve seen in my life!”

Geoff cleared his throat and nudged Michael.  “Blowjobs,” he muttered.

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna give you twenty blowjobs, you fucking hero!”

Gavin gestured weakly at his groin.   _ “All yours, mate, but I’m not getting up off the floor for a bit.” _

Jeremy turned as he heard the familiar hiss of an activating pod.  He rushed to it, the game forgotten, as it slid open. Behind him, he could hear Michael’s voice.

“Hey Gav, you cool over there?  We’ve gotta check in on Ryan and then we’re gonna come get you.”

_ “Cheers, I’ll just be catching my bloody breath.” _

The crew was already crowded around the pod before it finished moving.  Michael joined them just as it slid open. Jeremy let out a soft sigh and a grin crept across his face.  The sight of Ryan’s face, relaxed with sleep, was more of a relief than he was expecting. 

Ryan shifted in the pod, mumbled, then blinked his eyes open slowly.  

“Welcome back, honey.”  Jack smiled. “How are you feeling?”

Jeremy leaned over the edge of the clone pod. “Hey, Ryan. You want touching, or no touching?”

Ryan blinked up at him.  Respawning always left a person hazy, sleepy, soft, but there was an extra vulnerability in that familiar gaze that Jeremy couldn’t place.

“Uh…”  Ryan cleared his throat, averting his gaze.  “Touching, if you… if you wanna.”

“Shut up.” Jeremy was already climbing into the pod, blanketing Ryan’s body with his own. “When do I  _ not _ wanna touch you?”

Ryan let out a long breath, arms reaching up to hold Jeremy close, pressing them together in a tight hug. He buried his face in Jeremy’s shoulder, breath warm through his clothes.

Jack leaned on the edge of the pod.  “Is it ‘Hug Your Killer’ time? Michael and Geoff and I have gotta go back and pick up Gavin and sort all that shit out, but… you wanna group hug first? Snuggle with your victims?”

“Mmmh.”  Ryan pulled his face out of Jeremy’s shoulder with obvious reluctance.  “I think… I’d like a moment with Jeremy, if that’s all right.”

Geoff nodded.  “Whatever you need, man.  We’ll have our coms.”

“ _ Hell  _ of a good game,” Michael added, as though he couldn’t leave without saying it.

“Sure damn was, I’m a little bitter that I got a mercy bullet.”

Jack kissed Geoff’s cheek.  “Sorry, babe.”

Geoff rubbed his nose against her cheek.  “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll pay me back later.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay here, Ryan?” Michael pressed.  “No pressure, but I owe Gavin twenty blowjobs.”

“Mmh.”  Ryan’s face was already buried back in Jeremy’s shoulder.  He nodded without lifting his head.

“...I think we’re good,” Jeremy translated.

“Okay.  You give us a call if you need anything.”

Jeremy let out a breath and closed his eyes, pulling Ryan closer.  He could hear footsteps leaving, and also the soft tap of a small object being set down on the edge of the pod.

“In case you need it,” said Geoff’s voice.  Then his footsteps too receded. With the soft noise of the automatic door, the room fell into soft, peaceful silence.

Ryan mumbled something into Jeremy’s shoulder, so muffled by clothes that he barely heard it.

“I fucked up, J.”  

“Nah.” Jeremy nuzzled his face against Ryan’s hair, getting comfortable. “You didn’t know Gavin found a bullet.”

“Not that. I-- I mean…” 

The silence stretched on until Jeremy lifted his head.  Ryan wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I hurt you. I… I  _ actually  _ hurt you.”  There was pain in his voice, and an edge of panic that made Jeremy’s stomach twist.  “I knew it was your first time, and I wasn’t gentle, I just went hard and had  _ fun  _ without making sure you--”

“Hey.” Jeremy silenced him with a hand on his face, cupping gently, thumb trailing over his lips. “Don’t lie to yourself, you  _ did  _ make sure.  I asked for it. I told you not to stop. You offered to be gentle, to give me a quick death, and you remember what I said?”

Something that was clearly trying to be a smile crept onto Ryan’s face, nervous and fragile.  “You said ‘fuck you.’”

“Yeah I fuckin’ did, because I wanted you to be  _ rough. _ ”  Jeremy leaned close, resting his forehead against Ryan’s, smiling at the memory.  “I wanted the goddamn Vagabond to  _ fuck me up.   _ I wanted you to break me.  And shit, Ryan, you fucking did.  I loved it.”

Ryan shuddered, hands fisting in Jeremy’s clothes.  “K-keep talking. Please.”

“Fuck, Ryan; do you know how  _ long _ I’ve wanted you to do that to me?”  It was easy to give Ryan what he needed, to ramble his desire and consent between their barely-parted lips.  “Ever since the first night we played, when I saw you cutting up Michael and Geoff… fuck, I watched Geoff screaming in pain, and I was  _ jealous _ . Yeah, I needed to pump the brakes this time, but that’s ‘cause I’m an idiot who doesn’t know when to stop, and you  _ did _ stop, Ryan. You  _ did _ .”

He could  _ feel  _ the tension leave Ryan’s body in a long, heavy sigh.

“Fuck… I’m so glad you’re okay…”

Jeremy closed the distance between them, pulling Ryan into a kiss.  It was a relief to feel Ryan return it, slow and gentle but  _ deep.  _ Ryan’s hand found his waist, slipping under his shirt, clearly desperate for skin-on-skin.  Jeremy pulled back from the kiss to pull his shirt off, tossing it out of the pod and pressing himself back against Ryan, resuming the kiss.  God, that felt good, bare chest against bare chest, Ryan starting to return the kiss with more heat, making a soft noise between their lips. As his worry faded, Jeremy’s dick was becoming more and more aware that it was pressed against a completely naked and clearly interested Ryan, comfortable and alone.

“Mmh.”  Jeremy mumbled words against Ryan’s lips.  “You’re hard.”

“Mmh.  Your fault.”

“...Can I?”

“Nnh, Jeremy, you can do  _ anything  _ you want.”

Jeremy smiled.  “...Yeah?” He slid his hand down Ryan’s side, his hip, then his cock.  He felt Ryan’s breath hitch. “Anything, hm?”

The game echoed in his mind, memories of  _ please, I’ll do anything.   _ The memory felt good.  The same killer who had terrified him in the dark was now lying under him, utterly submissive and begging him to take control, nothing but whimpers for more as Jeremy stroked him.

“G-god, Jeremy--”

Jeremy’s breath was growing heavy.  “God, I wanna fuck you.”

“ _ Please--” _

Jeremy had a feeling he knew what Geoff had left on the edge of the clone pod.  Reluctantly taking his hand off Ryan’s cock, he reached up and fumbled around until his hand closed around a small bottle.

“So how do you want to do this? Just hand stuff, or--”

“Anything you want.  I just want you in control.”

“Control, huh?”  Jeremy clicked open the bottle.  “You want ‘gentle and loving’ control or ‘vengeance against my killer’ control?”

“Jeremy.  Listen.” Ryan’s breath was heavy, his gaze intense.  “I’m  _ yours  _ right now.  Anything you want.”

“Hmm.”  Jeremy smeared his slick palm down the length of Ryan’s shaft, feeling it twitch under his hand.  “Gentle and loving it is.”

Ryan groaned, clearly struggling to speak clearly as Jeremy’s slick hand worked him over.  “Y-you don’t have to be gentle with me, I can -- nnh -- I-I can take rough.”

“I know.” Jeremy kissed him, quick and light. “But  _ I _ want this. You want me to be in charge, that’s fine. I’ll make all the decisions. And if those decisions are to write you a love poem with my cock, well…” Another kiss, another slow drag up Ryan’s dick that had him shuddering. “You’re just gonna have to put up with it.”

Ryan laughed, breathless. “A love poem with your-- really, Jeremy?”

“Fuck yeah. A goddamn cock sonnet. An ode to the beauty of your ass. My body will sing you poetry.”  Jeremy’s hand stilled, his gaze locked on Ryan’s face as his smile softened. “Fuck, it’s good to see you laugh. You ready, baby?”

“I’m always ready.”

“You  _ comfortable _ ?”

“Y-yeah, I’m… you’re good, Jeremy. F-fuck me, please.”

The pod was designed for one still body, not two moving ones.  Removing his shirt had been simple enough, but taking off his aggressively orange pants was a tight squeeze in the cramped space.  All the same, Jeremy refused to leave the pod, to leave the warmth of Ryan’s body.

“A-are you gonna--”  Ryan’s breath hitched as Jeremy’s dick slipped out of his pants, bumping against his bare hip.  “Nnh-- should I prep myself?”

Jeremy finally twisted out of his pants and tossed them out of the pod.  “You’re already prepped. Got your cock all slick, gonna sink into me real nice.”  His fingers were still sloppy with lube, and he slipped them between his own legs. “Just gotta… nnnnh, that’s  _ good… _ ”

A beautiful look of shocked arousal washed over Ryan’s face.  He seemed to have forgotten speech as Jeremy straddled him.

“You wanted me in charge?”  Jeremy reached between them, finding Ryan’s cock and guiding where he wanted it.  “I  _ am  _ in charge, and I’m gonna ride you.”

Ryan felt  _ good  _ pressed against his ass, both of them slicked-up.  Ryan’s hands were on his thighs, gentle and reverent, his pleasure-hazy gaze locked on Jeremy’s face in wonder.  Jeremy eased onto him slowly, lazily, taking his time as he coaxed Ryan inside.

“Nnnh--”  His breath hitched as he felt the head slip inside.  “Oh god  _ yes…” _

He sunk down, inch by inch, diving back onto Ryan’s lips.  Ryan was a mess under him, loud moans muffled by Jeremy’s kiss, hands shaking on Jeremy’s thighs as though wordlessly begging.  Jeremy groaned as his hips settled against Ryan’s, shaft fully buried inside him. God, that felt  _ good,  _ warm and full and powerful as Ryan trembled under him.

“Mmmh…”  Jeremy broke the kiss, rocking his hips in Ryan’s lap.  “There you go. That’s right where I want you…”

“Fuck, Jeremy- a-are you sure you--”

“Fuck yeah I’m sure.” He rolled his hips, feeling Ryan move inside him, feeling that tattooed chest rise and fall under his hands. “Already came on this cock once today.”

“Y-yeah, you sure did…” Ryan was staring up at him like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. Couldn’t believe Jeremy was  _ his _ . “S-should I touch you? While you ride me?”

“Mmm...If you wanna. But I think it’s your turn right now, Ryan. You didn’t get to come yet, did you?”

Ryan’s hips twitched, like he’d only just remembered. “No! Fuck, I was g-gonna catch Gavin, pin him down and r-ride his dick until--”

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy grinned, hips moving faster now, bracing himself against Ryan’s chest as he slid up and down on his cock. “Big fierce killer, huh? You were just gonna keep taking and  _ taking _ until you were satisfied? Until you ran out of victims to pleasure you?” He leaned down, pressed a kiss to Ryan’s lips. “Yeah, you’re a big scary monster, but you’re still whimpering like a kitten while I ride your dick, huh?”

Ryan groaned, hips pushing up against him. Fucking into Jeremy with a hard, desperate thrust, and fuck, it felt  _ good _ .  “G-god, Jeremy--”

“You were really looking forward to using Gavin, weren’t you? Must be  _ so  _ pent up after that round.”

Briefly, a trace of something dominant slipped into Ryan’s voice, a half-growling groan that faded into a whine.  Like a tamed lion. “F-fuck yeah, I was-- Nnh, f-fucker got before I could finish--”

“Yeah.” Jeremy grinned, rode him harder. “And now _ I’ve _ got you. Got the dangerous Vagabond all to myself. The entire fucking city is scared of you, but I’m not.” He ground his hips down, a slow circle that had Ryan moaning under him. “You’re all  _ mine _ .”

“Fuck,  _ yes-- _ ”

God, it was a rush seeing Ryan like this.  “Yes  _ what _ , Ryan?”

Ryan was whimpering, hips bucking under Jeremy like he couldn’t control it, hard slick pumps inside him.  “Yes, I- I’m yours--”

“Fuck, you’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

“I c-can’t help it--”

“Mmmh, damn, that’s hot.”  Jeremy pressed his fingers into Ryan’s chest, each shift of his hips pressing him down hard, filling him up to the hilt with  _ Ryan _ .  “Give me what I want.  Come in me.”

Ryan grabbed Jeremy and crushed their bodies together as he came with a desperate, shuddering groan, his hips jerking, red face buried in the crook of Jeremy’s shoulder.  Jeremy chewed his lip, rolling his hips down against the desperate twitchy thrusts, smiling as Ryan whimpered against his skin.

“God that’s hot…”  Jeremy pulled back enough to cup Ryan’s face, smiling, watching him catch his breath.  “There you go, good boy… feeling good?”

“Fuck, Jeremy…” Ryan looked like he could barely see straight, chest heaving under Jeremy’s body. “T-that was...nnnh, lemme… I wanna...”

He was fumbling with Jeremy’s hips, shaky with aftershocks and hazy with submission.  Jeremy let Ryan move him, coax his hips up. He shuddered as he slid up Ryan’s softening shaft.

“A-all right, buddy, what’s your plan here…?”

Ryan was already shimmying down, folding his legs to fit lower in the pod, moving until he could press an eager kiss to the head of Jeremy’s cock--

“Fuck--” Jeremy jolted as Ryan’s mouth slipped over him, shifting to brace his weight on his arms. Kneeling over Ryan on his hands and knees while Ryan took him  _ deeper--   _ “Oh holy shit, Ryan--”

Ryan’s hands gripped the backs of his thighs, pinning him close as he sucked.  He slid his hand up to Jeremy’s ass, dipping two fingers inside him, pressing knuckle-deep.  Jeremy shuddered, throbbing in Ryan’s mouth. The fingers were so  _ slick  _ as they pumped inside him, slick from Ryan-- Jeremy gasped for air, hips jerking forward into that fucking  _ eager _ mouth.  Ryan was devouring him like a meal, and  _ fuck _ , there was a thought; Ryan’s first meal in this body, it might as well be--

Jeremy came with a shout, pushing down into Ryan’s mouth, deep as he could, until his arms were shaking and his forehead was resting against the soft padding of the clone pod, curled over Ryan, both of them gasping.  Jeremy could feel Ryan’s breath against his thighs, warm and gradually slowing.

“Fuck.” Ryan was the first to break the silence. “It’s always better in a new body. Everything’s so...relaxed.”

“Really?” Jeremy pushed himself to his knees, smiling down at him. “I guess we should die more often, then.”

Ryan returned the smile, reaching up to stroke a hand down Jeremy’s arm. “We  _ should _ .”

“Mmmh.  Your face looks good between my legs.”

“Well, that’s another thing we should do more often.”

Jeremy chuckled and hauled himself out of the clone pod.  He held out his hand. “You ready to climb out of there?”

Ryan took his hand, squeezing gratefully.  “...I am now.”


	7. Stealth Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings for this chapter: Really gratuitous bloodplay. In a roundabout sort of way, orgasm denial. Verbal manipulation. Humiliation, objectification, slutshaming. As always, everything is consensual and everyone who needs aftercare gets aftercare. With this particular chapter, it is important to note that everyone is monitored at all times for safety reasons and no one is EVER left alone in a position where they can't safeword.

“So... how many Murder maps are there?”

Geoff’s gaze flicked up from the blueprint-scattered table, locking on Jeremy.  

“Several. Why?”

Gavin chuckled without looking up from his computer screen.  He was sprawled across a couch, legs kicked up on the arm, laptop on his legs as his fingers clacked away.  “Would you look at him, Geoff? The man’s hooked. He wants another game.”

Jeremy shrugged, leaning back in his chair.  “I’m just asking.”

“Sure you are.”  Gavin dragged his finger across his throat slowly, shooting Jeremy a teasing look.  “Fancy a slit? S’been a while since you got the knife, yeah?”

Gavin’s finger _flicked_ at the end of the motion, like a knife flicking off blood drops.  Jeremy swallowed.

“…Just gonna call me out like that, huh, Gav?”

Geoff tapped his fingers against the blueprints.  “You know, Jeremy, the Fake AH Crew does _crime_ sometimes, too.  We don’t just murder-fuck each other.”

Jeremy leaned over the table.  “C’mon, Geoff. You’ve been staring at those blueprints all day.  Are you any closer to finding a way into that vault?”

Geoff’s frown deepened.  Jeremy matched it with his most winning smile.

“Just one round.  It’ll loosen you up.  After that, I’ll sit down and help you look over those blueprints, deal?”

Geoff’s frown lost the battle.  “You’re too damn charming, Jeremy.”  With a reluctant laugh, he stood up. “All right, you win.  We’ll take a break. I’ll see if the crew’s up for a round of murder.”

Gavin’s hand shot up and his laptop was almost flung off his legs.  “I’m in!”

Jeremy pumped his fist.  “Yes!”

“Oh, and, since Jeremy was asking about maps…”  Geoff shot a knowing look at Gavin. “It’s getting kinda late.  Wanna make this round a _soirée_?”

Gavin bounced off the couch in delight, barely catching his laptop.  “Oooooh, can we?”

“... Soirée?” Jeremy repeated.

Geoff smiled and shrugged out of his jacket, laying it over the back of his chair. “You know the yacht? Bright, sunny, luxurious place to die? Nice and summery?  Sometimes, we play there at _night_.”

“Whole different feel,” Gavin piped up.

“At night?”  Jeremy tried to picture it.  It was hard to imagine the yacht without sun and swimsuits.  “That sounds…”

“Spooky?”  Geoff smiled as he popped open the top button on his shirt.  “It’s like being plunged into a murder mystery!”

“It sounds _amazing_! Count me in!”  Jeremy cleared his throat as Geoff undid another button.  “Also, not that I’m complaining, but why are you stripping?”

Gavin huffed and gestured at his own clothes.  “Well we can’t go to a fancy yacht party dressed like _this_!  We'll be bloody tossed off the ship!”

Jeremy frowned.  Gavin was wearing his usual navy slacks and button-up.  Geoff was even more dressed up. Jeremy glanced down at his own aggressively orange t-shirt and faded purple pants.

“...Why, what’s wrong with our clothes?”

“Gav, round up the crew.”  Geoff beckoned to Jeremy. “Lil’ J, come with me.  You’re about to take a trip to my walk-in closet. My treat.”

Jeremy bit his lip.  Geoff hadn’t undone all of his shirt buttons, and Jeremy was feeling a growing urge to finish the job himself.  “See you on the boat, Gav. Geoff’s inviting me up to his room, this could take a while.”

Geoff smiled.  “That’s cute, but I’m getting you _into_ some clothes, not out of them.”

\----

Geoff’s walk-in closet was _extensive._

For a moment, Jeremy forgot his half-formed plans of coaxing Geoff into a quickie.  Endless jackets, shirts, pants, shoes, and ties all dragged his attention in every direction.  Everything came in endless colors, cuts, and materials, but _nothing_ in the closet looked cheap.

“Okay, lil’ J, we gotta get you dressed for the occasion.”  Geoff thumbed a jacket, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.  “I’m thinking something _dark_. Simple, yet elegant. Maybe a nice navy…”

A flash of plum caught Jeremy’s eye. A bold suit jacket, complete with tails, silver paisley embroidery curling across the wide silk lapels. He lifted it down from the rack, running a hand down the soft threads. Fuck, it was soft.

“Or something like this,” he proposed.

A fond smile was spreading across Geoff’s face as he watched Jeremy shrug into the jacket.  “...Fuck, what was I thinking. This is Jeremy Dooley I’m talking to.”

Jeremy adjusted the shoulders.  “Got any orange pants to go with this?”

“There are limits to what I’ll allow on my yacht, Jeremy.”

“A tie, then.”  Jeremy gave Geoff a brilliant smile.  “C’mon, Geoff, please?”

Geoff’s glare couldn’t stand up to Jeremy’s smile.  He relented with a sigh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”  He turned, digging through a closet, and pulled out a vibrant orange silk tie.  “C’mere…”

Jeremy stepped close and let Geoff loop the tie around his neck.  With the sudden proximity, it was hard to ignore his original interest in getting Geoff alone.  Geoff’s shirt was still partially undone, exposing the dark lines of a chest tattoo, his gaze focused on the tie.  As Geoff worked, his tattooed knuckles brushed Jeremy’s neck, and Jeremy’s heart skipped.

“You _sure_ you don’t wanna get me out of my clothes?” Jeremy murmured.

“Heh.  Maybe on the yacht.”  Geoff finished the knot and adjusted the tie lovingly.  “There we go. Lookin’ good, lil’ J.” He gave it a sharp tug, like a leash, pulling Jeremy closer.  “Hope I get to kill you out there.”

Jeremy’s breath was already growing heavy.  “Hope I get to kill _you_ out there.”

\----

The boat ride out to the yacht felt like another dimension.  The moon was high, the lights of the harbor reflecting on the dark water like a scattering of stars. The reflections rippled and scattered as the speedboat shot through them, throwing up spray like handfuls of diamonds. Jack whooped in delight as she drove, pumping a fist in the air. The beads on her dress shook with the movement, flashing light to mirror the water.

Gone were the casual, summery swimsuits, inviting the eyes and the sunlight to linger on the skin.  The order of the night was formal wear. Aside from Jack’s dark dress, every crew mate wore a perfectly-tailored suit.  It was the sort of look that begged for a kiss under the moonlight, hands on lapels and lips moving over lips, promising that, _surely_ , no knife would slide between Jeremy’s ribs to silence his quickened breath.

The thought made his spine prickle.  The air of mystery and romance was only heightening Jeremy’s awareness that he was, in all odds, about to die.  There was something about this boat ride that set it apart from the first one, something about the dark water stretching out around them, the yacht sparking in the distance like a chandelier.  Without the sun, it was harder to forget the violence that waited for them aboard that beautifully lit ship.

Jeremy glanced around the crew again.  It was almost a shame to think of what his companions’ nice clothes were about to be put through.  Jeremy wondered how the crew normally got the blood stains out. The Fakes must know one hell of a good laundromat.

It was an eternity before the motorboat finally began to slow, drifting closer to the massive yacht, and yet Jeremy almost didn’t feel ready.

The yacht shone on the water, lit by strings of soft lights that criss-crossed above the main deck. As they approached, Jeremy could see warm yellow light in every window, the interior of the yacht lit up as though a party was in full swing.  Jeremy craned his head back, staring up at the view. It was eerie to see no movement anywhere on board. No shadows passing before the windows. No figures mingling on the deck. The vast ship was completely silent, floating before them, decadent and ghostly, the night party that never was.

A hush had fallen over the crew as the motorboat drifted up to the dock. The crew stood and docked the boat as it slowed to a stop, the movement strange in polished shoes and tailored pants.  Everyone carried a box under their arm, a com on their ear, and handcuffs on their belt. Jack’s expensive high heeled shoes clicked on the deck as she jumped on board. She placed her satin-gloved hands on her sparkling hips, smiling at the crew.

“You guys ready for the night party of your life?”

“Yeah!”

“Damn right I am!”

Jeremy’s fingertips were buzzing as he gripped his box.  “Fuck yes.”

“All right; same rules as last time. Everybody disperse to your starting points. Jeremy, you stay here. We really need to get you up to speed on these maps, but for now, this can be your designated point. Cool?”

Jeremy hopped onto the deck and rapped his knuckles against the wall, where the words _Fake AH Bang Boat_ were written in curly script.  “Sure, there’s a great view here.”

Michael snickered as he hopped off the boat.  “You just wanna check out the butts walking up the stairs.”

“Yep.”  Jeremy dragged his gaze meaningfully over Michael as he walked by.  “I can’t fucking believe you’re wearing _that_ to a game of murder.”

Every piece of Michael’s suit was snow white.  He shot Jeremy a smile as he ascended the stairs, followed by Jack.

“Oh, you should see it splattered in blood.  Looks fuckin’ _good._ ”

Geoff sighed as he followed the pair of them.  “I know a _very_ good drycleaner,” he explained wearily.  

“It really kills you to see all these clothes messed up, huh?”

“Hey, whoever the killer is --”  Geoff raised his voice. “You’ll make me a happy Geoff if you don’t damage the clothes.”

Michael laughed from the deck above.  “You heard the man: strip your victims!”

Ryan hesitated on the dock, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his dress shirt.  His crisp suit was all somber greys, from light smoke to dark slate, the only color a slash of dark blue on his tie.  It looked damn good on his tall frame, but Jeremy had a feeling that Ryan would rather be wearing his leather jacket.

“You know, Geoff,” Ryan remarked, “all these fancy clothes would be _safest_ if we didn’t wear them to Murder in the first place.  Accidents happen. Messy, bloody accidents.”

Jeremy bit his lip as Ryan walked past, resisting the urge to reach out and _grope._  “Need someone to take ‘em off you?”

Ryan looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow.  “Let me see what’s in my box, then we’ll talk.”

Gavin snickered as he followed Ryan up the stairs.  “You look _class_ in that suit, Jeremy.  Try not to bleed on it, yeah?”

The com crackled, and Jack’s voice came through.   _“Don’t listen to him, honey.  You’d look lovely bleeding out in that suit.”_

Geoff huffed.   _“That loveseat you killed him on is never gonna be the same, Jack.”_

_“Mmm, you didn’t mind when I was riding you on it.”_

Jeremy’s hand shot to his com.  Everyone was far enough by now that he could only hear their voices through the earpiece.  “Wh-whoa, when you were doing what now?”

_“Oh, just whispering to Geoff about how pretty you looked when you were bleeding out on that very piece of furniture, while his hips bucked under me--”_

_“Th-that’s not important,”_ Geoff interrupted.   _“Jack’s got a fetish for ruining my furniture, that’s all.”_

 _“We all in place?”_ Gavin sounded eager.   _“I wanna slit!”_

 _“Anyone still en route?  No?”_ Jack took a breath.   _“All right, boxes open!  Let’s play Murder, boys!”_

The words brought a sudden silence over the coms.  Jeremy took a deep breath and lifted his box, staring at the lid, bracing himself.  Lights from the boat sparkled on the dull metal surface.

Only one way to find out what was inside.

He flicked the latch and lifted the lid.  A thin breath of disappointment slipped through his teeth.  Empty. No knife, no gun. The odds of him leaving this boat alive just got a lot lower.  

Gavin, Ryan, Jack, Geoff, Michael… one of them had the knife now.  One of them might be about to kill him.

 _“Well, you can all relax,”_ announced Ryan.   _“I’ve got the gun.”_

Michael snorted.   _“Why the fuck would that make me relax?  You’re gonna shoot someone. You can't fucking help yourself.”_

Jeremy snapped his box shut.  Time to get moving. He cast one last glance at the speedboat bobbing peacefully in the dark waves.  No escape there. That little boat would only take him back to shore if he could survive this game.

 _“Well, it means I’m not the killer,”_ Ryan offered. _“At worst, I’ll kill one person, and it’ll probably be quick.”_

_“Yeah, and you’ll waste our one bullet!  We’re so screwed.”_

_“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m saving this bullet for marriage.  And by marriage I mean the killer.”_

_“Whatever, Ryan.”_

Jeremy took the stairs two at a time.  The deck sprawled before him, sparkling with lights.  For a moment, the sight of that much softly-lit luxury stopped him in his tracks.

Gavin was right, this was a completely different map at night.

As if summoned, Gavin hummed over the com.   _“Hey, Ryan, you wanna shoot Geoff right now?  Get it over with?”_

 _“What?”_ Geoff’s sputter made all four other voices laugh.   _“Why me?”_

_“Dunno, you just seem shifty.”_

_“Tell you what, you guys? How ‘bout, next person to say ‘Geoff’s the killer’ owes me a blowjob?”_

_“Geoff’s the killer.”_

_“Definitely the killer.”_

_“Classic killer Geoff.”_

_“...Fuck you guys.  I’ll be collecting from all of you later.”_

Jeremy grinned, letting the banter wash over him as he surveyed the deck.  God, the view was beautiful. It was a still night, the dark waves barely troubled by the wind, reflecting back the moon and stars.  For a moment, Jeremy took the gamble of turning his back on the game, staring out over the sea. He could see city lights in the distance, sparkling on the waters.  Balmy wind gusted over his face.

“Hey, Jer.”

He stiffened as he turned.  Jack stood on the deck, her dress as dark and radiant as the waters.  The tension left Jeremy as he let his eyes wander over her. Her high-heeled shoes were gone, her bare feet all but silent on the wooden deck.  Jeremy leaned back against the rail, soaking in the sight of her, soft hair and curves and low _low_ neckline.  He was starting to smile as he touched his com.

“Hey guys.  If I die, it’s Jack.”

Jack was already stepping closer.  “If I die, it’s Jeremy.”

His hands found her hips and yanked her into a deep, burning kiss. The beads on her dress were smooth and cool beneath his fingers, and they rolled satisfyingly under his hands as he shifted. He ran his hands slowly upwards, enjoying the feel of her dress, the curves of her body.

“I can feel your boner,” she teased, lips moving against his.

Jeremy snickered.  “Yeah? Well I can feel _your_ boner.”  His hands slid down, finding her ass, cupping it through her dress.  “Wanna take some risks?”

Jack laughed.  “You’re cute, Jeremy, but you’re not ‘get my throat slit’ cute.”  She slipped away from him. “If you’ve got the knife, save me for last.  We’ll talk.”

Jeremy exhaled in frustration as she walked away.  “I don’t _have_ the knife, though!”

“Awww, that’s really too bad!”

Jack waved as she walked away, vanishing into one of the doors leading to the interior of the yacht.  Jeremy let out a frustrated breath and leaned back against the rail. _Damn_ her ass looked good in that dress.

Gavin chuckled.   _“Awww, she hang you out to dry, Jeremy?”_

 _“Sure did,”_ replied Jack smoothly.   _“After all, that’s what you do when you get something... wet.”_

Jeremy’s dick twitched again.  He huffed into the com as the crew snickered.

As captivating as the view was, he shouldn’t stay here.  He was awfully exposed out here on the deck. It was tempting to follow Jack, if only to stare at her more, but that didn’t seem like a good idea either.  Even if Jack wasn’t the killer, being too close to another player was a good way to give the killer a two-for-one. Besides, they’d have to split whatever gun parts they found.

Jeremy sighed, and instead of following the tantalizing swish of Jack’s beaded dress, he roamed across the deck between the lavish lounging furniture.  If he remembered right, this was the way to the hot tub, and past it was a mini-bar. There might be a box lurking in some corner behind the bar, and if nothing else, it would provide some cover if someone unsavory showed up.

Jeremy almost walked past the hot tub before realizing it was _occupied._

He stumbled over his feet, his heart suddenly into his throat.  Ryan lounged in the steaming waters, leaning against the edge of the hot tub, pointing his gun casually at Jeremy’s head.

“Hey, Jer.  I’ve got a proposal.”

Jeremy’s attention was divided between Ryan’s bare chest and the barrel of his gun.  Ryan’s body language was relaxed, confident, but Jeremy had no doubt that Ryan could-- and would-- shoot him between the eyes if his hand so much as twitched towards his pocket.  Jeremy risked a glance at his surroundings. Ryan’s clothes lay in a neat pile on a lounge chair beside the hot tub. Slate grey jacket, shirt, pants, and… yep, there were his boxers.  Jeremy’s gaze jumped back to that familiar smirk, that familiar broad chest. Under the bubbling hot water, Ryan must not be wearing a goddamn thing.

Fuck.

“P-proposal?” Jeremy repeated, mouth dry.

Ryan gestured with the gun.  “You give me a lay, I’ll give you some protection.  It’s the only safe fuck you’re gonna get in this game.”

Michael spoke over the com.   _“Jeremy, don’t let him fucking fool you.  Nailing someone during Murder is literally never safe.”_

 _“Usually worth it, though,”_ admitted Geoff.

“So what’s your plan if _I’m_ the killer?”  Jeremy was barely listening to the com.  His eyes hadn’t left Ryan’s chest. “What’s to stop me from having a different kind of fun?”

The hot tub would stain such a pretty pink if he had a knife to carve up Ryan with...

“Oh, I’m not too worried about that.”  Ryan brushed two fingers down the barrel of the gun, almost affectionately.  “This stays against your head until I’m done. You pull a knife out, you die before it touches me.”

Jack sighed.   _“Jeremy, some friendly advice: you really don’t wanna take his offer.”_

 _“Oi,”_ Gavin scoffed, _“let the man make some mistakes!”_

“Come on, Jeremy.”  Ryan lifted his gun to his lips and kissed the barrel, not breaking eye contact.  “You won’t have to do much. Just sit back and stare down the barrel while I ride you.  The water’s _lovely_.”

Jeremy’s breath caught.  He could almost feel it, the warmth of the hot tub around his body and the warmth of Ryan around his dick...

 _“Jeremy, don’t do it, Ryan’s trigger finger slips when he’s horny!”_ Jack was starting to sound nervous.   _“You get in that hot tub, there’s a good chance you don’t get back out!”_

Jeremy could almost hear the squint in Geoff’s voice.   _“Why are you trying to help him, Jack?”_

_“Because that’s the only damn bullet we have right now!  Ryan’s gonna blow his load and blow out Jeremy’s brains and then the rest of us are fucked!”_

Ryan snorted, tapping an annoyed finger against his com.  “Jack, what do you take me for? I don’t want to waste this bullet any more than the rest of you do.”

 _“See,”_ Gavin interjected, _“what I’m thinking is, maybe Jeremy’s the killer.  He takes a hop in the hot tub, gets it in, Ryan gets excited--”_ Gavin made click sound with his tongue, an imitation of a trigger being pulled.   _“--no more killer.”_

“None of you have any faith in me.”

_“No, Ryan, we don’t.”_

Michael hummed thoughtfully.   _“Counterpoint: if Jeremy’s the killer, we’ll do all right.  He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing yet. Potentially wasting a bullet to take out killer Jack, sure, that might be worth it.  But Jeremy? I wanna see our little baby killer try to get his knife wet.”_

Ryan settled back against the wall of the hot tub with a sigh, strong arms draped over the edge.  His eyes were back on Jeremy. “Counter-counterpoint: I’m _hard._ Do you really need more persuading?”

Jeremy bit his tongue.  God, it was tempting. The slide of skin on wet, steamy skin, hot water sloshing between them, the barrel of a gun nudging his temple while Ryan squeezed up and down his cock…  Jeremy clenched his teeth in frustration and adjusted his boner. God help him, he wanted to keep playing Murder more than he wanted to sink his dick into Ryan right now.

“Ryan, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll pass.”  

“Suit yourself.”  Ryan shrugged. “Someone else will take what you don’t.”

Jeremy pulled his gaze away before he could change his mind, letting out a long breath as he strode away.  “Are you all happy?”

_“Relieved.”_

Gavin pouted.   _“Little disappointed.  Would have been hot.”_

“Oh, and Michael?  You think I’m not a dangerous enough killer to shoot?  Fuck you.”

“ _Ha!  Say it with your knife, lil’ J!”_

The deck thumped under Jeremy’s feet as he wove between the furniture.  He had to focus, no matter how _ragingly_ hard he was.  If he could find enough boxes, put together a gun, shoot the killer… _then_ he could go back to that hot tub and fuck Ryan until he screamed.

If he let himself get too comfortable, he wouldn’t get the chance.

 _“Ooooh, another lovely little box for me,”_ Gavin sang.

 _“Anyone dead yet?”_ Jack asked.

_“Nope.”_

_“Not dead.”_

_“Geoff’s alive!”_

Jeremy hopped up a short flight of stairs to a higher level of the deck.  “I’m alive.”

Ryan snorted, now louder through the com than in person.   _“Alive and un-laid.  Offer still stands.”_

A balmy wind blew across the ocean, tickling Jeremy’s neck as he walked alongside the rail.  The atmosphere was deceptively calm. For the moment, the night could have been just another soireé, like Geoff said -- crime lords all dolled up on their yacht, decadent and dripping in wealth -- but Jeremy knew it wouldn’t last.  Someone was going to die soon. He had to remember that. His dick enjoyed losing, but his pride was steadily becoming the louder voice. Just _once_ he wanted to reach the end of Murder still breathing.

… Fuck, why had no one died yet?  What was the killer waiting for?

 _“Gavin?”_ Ryan’s voice was hopeful over the com.   _“You sounded pretty interested in hearing Jeremy get in the hot tub.  Wanna fill this vacancy?”_

_“Oooh, tempting, but the thing is, I still think you’ll blow a hole in whoever shags you.”_

_“Mmh.  You sure?  Just slipped a nice, lubed-up finger inside and it’s soooooo tight…”_

Jeremy stumbled, grabbing the railing for support.

 _“R-Ryan!”_ Gavin’s voice was almost a squeak. _“Will someone bloody stop him?”_

_“What the fuck do you want us to do about it?”_

_“I-I don’t know, someone fuck him so I won’t!”_

Geoff let out a defeated groan.   _“...Agh shit, I’m gonna regret this.  Gavin, you’re about to get your wish.”_

Jeremy froze with one foot on a stair.  Oh fuck.

 _“Well well well.”_ Pleasure dripped from Ryan’s voice.   _“Geoff, you look almost as good in that suit as you’ll look out of it.  What can I do you for?”_

_“I, uh… I’m gonna take your offer.”_

Jeremy’s jaw tightened, his hand suddenly gripping the railing harder.  God _damn_ it, fuck the game, he should have said yes to Ryan.  Should have climbed into that hot tub and gotten the ride of his life.  Now Geoff was about to enjoy what he wouldn’t, and the sounds were going to _plague_ him.

Ryan chuckled.   _“Geoff, you’re a smart man who’s about to be a lucky man.  Strip and get in here.”_

_“Nothing about this is smart or lucky, but here I go.”_

_“Oh, and... leave the bowtie on.  I like it.”_

_“Y-yes sir, Ryan sir!  Could you maybe not wave that gun around so much?”_

_“Awww, what’s wrong, Geoff?  You seem awfully nervous. If you’re innocent, you’ve got nothing to fear from this pretty piece.”_

There was a pause, and Geoff’s voice lightened somewhat.   _“...Is the gun the pretty piece, or are you?”_

 _“Ha, well, we’re both pretty.”_ Over the com came the click of a gun. _“And we could both kill you.  Get in the hot tub.”_

_“Holy f-fuck Ryan, at least keep the safety on!”_

_“Get in.  The fucking.  Hot tub.”_

The growl in Ryan’s voice sent chills up Jeremy’s spine.  He pushed a door open, leaving the balmy air behind and stepping into the cozy luxury of the yacht’s interior.  No boxes so far.

Geoff swallowed audibly.   _“...Well, it was nice knowing all of you.  Remember me next time you’re fucking Ryan.”_

Jeremy clenched his teeth like he was trying to crush steel between them as he stalked down the hall.  It was hard to think about boxes when he kept thinking about what Geoff was about to enjoy. He pushed open a door, almost mindlessly, revealing a narrow and spotless bathroom.  Jeremy almost closed the door again before realizing that beside the vanity sat a small metal box. Ryan moaned, and it took Jeremy forced himself to ignore it as he slipped into the narrow porcelain space and grab the box.

_“Mmh, that’s it.  Right… nnh, there…”_

Gavin whined over the com.   _“Damn it…”_

 _“Don’t be too jealous, Gav--”_ Geoff’s breath caught suddenly, then dragged out in a moan.   _“I-I might be about to take a literal bullet for the team… oh f-f-fuck, Ryan...”_

_“Nnnnnh, god damn, that’s what I wanted…”_

It was impossible to block out the sounds of breathing, of warm water sloshing as Ryan moved.  Jeremy clicked open the box and pocketed the gun part almost without seeing it. Fuck, if he closed his eyes he could practically feel the tight squeeze around his cock, see the hungry smile on Ryan’s face...

_“Mmh, Geoff, you’re so twitchy.  Been a while, huh?”_

Jack giggled.   _“Hardly.”_

_“Ha, no, I mean it’s been a while since Geoff got laid mid-game.  That’s a different kind of itch, isn’t it, baby?”_

_“Nnh-- y-yeah--”_

_“It shows.  Can’t control your hips, can you?  That gun must feel nice against your head...”_

Jeremy realized that his breath was growing heavy and he hadn’t moved away from the empty box.  With a curse, he dashed out of the room and continued down the hall.

_“R-Ryan, w-we’re all buddies here, and the safety’s off, you really don’t need to keep the gun there--”_

_“Cute idea, Geoff, but the gun stays.”_

_“L-listen -- Sh-shit, quit m-moving like that when I’m trying to think--”_ Geoff cursed under his breath. _“S-say I’m the killer, what am I gonna do?  Stab you right here in the hot tub? Every damn person on this boat is listening to us fuck, this is a shitty time to kill you!”_

 _“Hm... yeah, I’ll grant you that.”_ Ryan let out a long, satisfied breath.   _“But I like how the gun looks against your head.  I like how it makes you… shiver.”_

 _“Y-yeah, but if you let me up, I can-- nnh-- I can bend you over the edge of the hot tub.”_ There was a sudden edge to Geoff’s voice behind the breathlessness.   _“You wanna see how pent up I really am?  Let me take control. You can hold the gun up, shoot down any killer who thinks we’re sitting ducks, while I pound you.”_

Ryan’s breath hitched.  It was a moment before he could respond.   _“...F-fuck.”_

_“If someone pretty walks by, you can point the gun at ‘em and fantasize.  Imagine squeezing the trigger, spraying some blood. Like I’m fucking the bullet out of your barrel.”_

_“Nnnh!”_

_“...You want that more than you want to keep a gun against my head, don’t you?”_

_“Y-yeah.  Fuck, yeah.”_

Splashing sounds made Jeremy bite his lip.  He glanced up and down the hall, and against his better judgement, he leaned against the wall and squeezed his dick through his dress pants.  He groaned through his teeth, hips jerking into the touch. Fuck, was this what it had been like in the cave? When he’d been pinned down in the tunnel, tongue in his ass and a hand on his cock, moaning openly for the rest of the crew to hear?

Fuck, no wonder his teammates had wanted more details.

Gavin’s voice shivered in his ear. _“H-hey, is anyone near the deck?”_

_“Why? You see something suspicious?”_

_“N-no, I- I bloody wish I did! Need someone to narrate this for the rest of us!”_

The splashing had stopped, a few tense moments of silence followed by a gratified moan from Ryan.

_“Mmmh, I’ll narrate for you just fine, Gav. Geoff’s filling me up so nice from behind, got me pressed against the side. J-just gotta hold this gun, nice...and steady…”_

“ _Ha_ .” Jack sounded like she was moving. Walking somewhere. Still playing the game while the rest of them were frozen, coms pressed to their ears. _“Bet it’s wobbling all around.”_

 _“Oh,_ something _is, Jack, but it’s not my gun.”_

_“Damn, Ryan, you must be a pretty sight right now.  Bent over the edge of the hot tub, all warm and flushed and wet, with Geoff’s pretty tattooed dick stretching you open.”_

_“Nnnh, fuck...”_

Geoff’s voice was as breathless as Ryan’s.   _“Oh, it’s a pretty sight, all right.”_

_“I’m jealous, babe.”_

_“You should be.  Ryan keeps… mmh, squeezing me…”_

Jeremy cursed through his teeth, his hand pressing hard on his dick.  He let out a long breath and let his head thump back against the wall, breathing a soft string of swears.

“Fuck fuck shit god damn it fuck…”

With one more grunt, he pulled his hand away and forced himself to keep walking.  He didn’t turn Ryan down just so he could burn all his time jacking off in the hall.  He had a game to win.

_“Awww, what’s wrong, Ryan?  You’re damn near whimpering.  Wish you had... someone to shoot?”_

_“Y-yes -- nnnnnh, yes!”_

_“That would make this feel even better, huh?  Pumping hot lead into someone while I’m pumping into you?”_

_“O-oh shit--  Geoff, I’m gonna --”_

_“You know, Ryan, it’s cute how easy you are to wind up.  You’re such a predictably violent little pervert.”_

_“S-shut up and keep f-fucking me--”_

_“Ryan.”_ Geoff’s voice was a whisper.   _“Bang bang.”_

_“Aaaah--!”_

BANG went the gun.

Jeremy froze, body jolting as though the bullet had found its mark in his chest.  His heart thumped in the sudden silence. Somehow, he hadn’t thought Ryan would really do it.  Would really waste their only shot.

Fuck, Ryan just _wasted_ their one shot.

Michael snarled into his mic.   _“God fucking dammit Ryan!  We all fucking knew that was gonna happen!  There goes our only bullet!”_

Silence.  The murmur of sloshing water had stopped.  Geoff didn’t say a word. When Ryan spoke, his voice was weak and strained.

_“...Sh...shit…”_

_“...Ryan?”_ Michael’s voice was suddenly tense.   _“...That bullet hit someone, didn’t it?  Oh god, Gavin? Gavin!”_

_“I’m still here, boy!”_

_“It was Jack.”_ Geoff’s voice was oddly flat. _“He-- he shot Jack.  Fuck. Ryan, stay put, I’m gonna… gonna check if she was the killer.”_

They waited, listening intently as Geoff splashed out of the hot tub, wet footsteps padding across the deck. Jeremy was afraid to breathe, lest he miss Geoff’s verdict. He didn’t think he was the only one.

 _“It wasn’t her.”_ The words split the air with devastating finality. _“She wasn’t the killer.”_

Jeremy’s com beeped, and he had a feeling everyone else’s had beeped just the same.

_“Woooooooo, this is ghost Jack… I might have looked killer in that dress but I didn’t have the knife.”_

Silence over the coms.

Jeremy’s stomach tightened.  It wasn’t Jack. It hadn’t been Jack. The killer was still out there. The game was still on.  He slipped his hands into his pocket, checking to make sure the gun parts were still there.

 _“You -- y-you talked me into it!”_ Ryan’s accusation was sudden and sharp.   _“You wouldn’t shut up about fucking the bullet out of me, you-- you were trying to make me shoot!”_

Geoff sighed.   _“Ryan, please, learn to take responsibility.  Who pulled the trigger?”_

_“I-I... I did...”_

_“And why’d you do it?”_

_“B-because --”_ Ryan whined.   _“B-because I r-really fucking wanted too--”_

_“You’ve got no one but yourself to blame, Ryan.  Really should’ve spent that bullet better.”_

_“Geoff, wait!  D-don’t leave!”_

_“Wait for what?  Our only weapon is lodged in Jack’s lungs.  You want protection? I need to go get gun parts.”_

_“But--”_ Ryan whined again. _“O-oh shit...”_

 _“Yeah, you’re about to be killer bait as soon as you put those cuffs on.  All the more reason I can’t stay here. Ryan, if the killer finds you, just…”_ Geoff was quiet for a moment.  He sighed at last. _“...Just do what they say and hang on.  I’ll find a gun, I’ll come back for you.”_

Michael snorted.   _“He’s saying you’re a goddamn treat right now, Ryan, so you’ve got good odds.  What killer would wanna slit you before they had some fun?”_

_“F-fuck--”_

Jeremy took a deep breath.  “Ryan, I’m not the killer, but don’t you dare get dressed before putting those handcuffs on.   Don’t deny me this.”

_“F-fuck you, Jeremy!”_

“Hey, there’s still time for that.”

_“Hey, Ryan, uh… maybe I could help you put those cuffs on?”_

_“Fuck you too, Geoff!”_

_“You sure?  You know, I’ve got Jack’s blood all over my hands now, it would probably get all over you if I helped with those cuffs…”_

_“N-nhh-- f-fine.”_

_“Heh.  You’re still fucking easy, Ryan.”_

The faint jingle of handcuffs was a tantalizing whisper in Jeremy’s com, accompanied by a soft sound from Ryan that might’ve been a barely-silenced protest.  Jeremy could almost _hear_ the begging that Ryan held back behind his teeth.  

One again, temptation simmered in his belly.  Jeremy indulged himself in the possibilities. Ryan might still be interested in a fuck, a distraction from his fate in some brief company… and now he was _handcuffed._  Jeremy took slow breaths to push the thought aside.  He pushed a door open and stepped back outside, hoping the night air might cool his hunger.  

A glint of metal caught his eye.  Sitting beside the rail was a box.  Jeremy scooped it up and clicked it open.  A bullet. He pocketed the precious item.

… What sort of _lovely_ noises would Ryan make if Jeremy slid that bullet inside him, like Gavin had done several rounds ago?  Only fair, since Ryan had put a bullet in Jack.

Jack…

Danger vied with arousal in Jeremy’s mind.  Fuck, one of the crew was dead, and the killer still hadn’t made a move.  Who the _fuck_ was it?

Sudden deafening static sloshed through the com, so loud that Jeremy winced.  He could hear the other voices cursing in alarm at the sound.

_“Jesus christ, what the fuck is that noise?”_

It sounded like… water _._ Flooding a com.

 _“Bloody--”_ Gavin’s voice was tense.   _“Did-- did someone fall over the edge?”_

A chill seeped down Jeremy’s spine.  Over the… edge. Suddenly, Jeremy felt very aware that he was on a floating mass of metal and wood adrift in the ocean, shifting ever so slightly under his feet.  Someone had _fallen_ from the safety of the deck down into the black waters below.

Fallen… or been pushed.

 _“Hey!”_ Michael’s voice, indignant. _“Whoever’s in the water better still be alive, or we’re gonna have a hell of a time recovering the body!”_

 _“S-shit, g-glad you’re so concerned w-with my welfare, Michael!”_ Geoff gasped words out between splashes. _“R-really warms a man’s heart!”_

Unwillingly, Jeremy’s gaze was drawn to the dark sea.  The waters were calm, but now that he was watching the roll of the waves, they didn’t feel nearly calm enough.  And… it must be deep. So, so deep, and dark. He shivered, stepping further back from the railing, which suddenly felt far too flimsy.

“Sh-shit, Geoff, what happened?”

 _“Some bastard ambushed me by the edge, shoved me against the rail, almost slit me--”_  Geoff’s voice vanished for a moment as water flooded the com.  He came up with a gasp. “ _I-- I jumped.  Guess he wasn’t expecting that.”_

_“Can you get back up, or do you need help?”_

_“A-almost to the ladder. I’m good. A-also...one of you fuckers just t-tried to slit me. And m-maybe fuck me against the rail, dunno what your intentions were.  You can all just s-stay the fuck away.”_

Again, Jeremy cringed.   _Fucked against the rail_ brought horrifying images to mind.  Bent over so the dark water was all he could see, each thrust rocking him precariously over the edge, water sloshing below like a hungry mouth waiting to swallow him _…_

God, it almost sounded worse than jumping.

 _“Geoff, who tried to do you in?”_ Gavin’s voice, nervous. _“Wasn’t me, Jack’s dead and Ryan’s cuffed…  Was it Michael or Jeremy?”_

 _“Well, I didn’t get a look, but…”_ Geoff grunted, followed by a rushing sound, like water falling away from a body. _“Felt a little inexperienced, if you catch my drift.”_

“Whoa, hey--” Jeremy pressed his com closer against his ear, as though he could reach through it and stop the words before they left Geoff’s lips. “Don’t even try that, it’s not me!”

 _“Well, sure, it makes sense you’d say that…”_ Another grunt, followed by the sound of footsteps, Geoff having successfully re-boarded the boat. _“But I don’t think I could have wriggled away from Michael or Gavin. Right, guys?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Oh yeah, definitely.”_

“Oh, fuck you guys! You think I’m the killer because whoever it is did a half-assed job of it?”

_“Yeah.”_

_“Yeah, pretty much.”_

“Hey, Geoff, here’s an idea.”  Jeremy edged around a corner. “Maybe Gavin or Michael just fucked up.  Or maybe you’re _fucking lying_ about being pushed over the edge.”

_“...Seriously?  Yeah, sure, I took a dip in the terrifying ocean and got my suit all wet just for kicks.”_

_“Oi, Geoff, how much of that suit you still wearing?”_

_“Wouldn’t you like to know, Gav.”_

Michael sighed.   _“So… smart money’s on Jeremy.  Got it.”_

“It’s not me!”

 _“What do you think, Ryan?”_  Geoff chuckled. _“You’re the only one Jeremy’s slit before, so you know his style.  You think he’d--”_

His voice cut off with a sharp gasp.  Jeremy froze, pressed against the wall, waiting to hear a sound through the com.

Michael’s voice was tense.   _“Shit, is Geoff dead?”_

 _“N-no, I’m fine.”_ The sound of Geoff’s voice made Jeremy exhale in relief.   _“I just uh… found Ryan.”_

 _“Found him?  What, did you forget he was in the…”_ Michael trailed off. _“...Oh.”_

Jeremy’s stomach flipped, equal parts horror and excitement.

Geoff sounded like he was experiencing the same thing.   _“Uh... l-looks like the killer came back for Ryan early.  Damn, that’s… whoof. That’s a sight. The hot tub’s gonna be a real bitch to clean.”_

 _“Shit...”_  Michael’s voice, assessing _. “How’s it look?”_

Jeremy had to bite his tongue to keep from asking the same thing.  He wanted every slick, crimson detail.

_“Honestly? Messy. Not your style, Michael. You’re cleared.  Or you’re being a damn clever bastard this round.”_

It took Jeremy’s brain a moment to catch up.  He’d almost forgotten that Ryan’s body wasn’t just a pretty picture, but a possible clue, and right now one of his only clues for finding the killer.

“ _I could see Gavin doing this,”_ Geoff mused.   _“He likes to make a mess.”_

_“Oi!”_

_“I’ve gotta say, Gavin, if it’s you, you got real fuckin’ sloppy letting me jump over the edge.  I expect quicker reactions from you. And, well…”_ Geoff’s voice trailed off.  For a moment, the only sound was the water lapping against the sides of the ship. _“Kinda makes sense that a certain someone might be a little jealous of me for bending Ryan over the edge of the hot tub.  Might want to slit me and toss my body over the edge as payback.”_

The words made Jeremy’s breath hitch.  “Wh-whoa, hey, I’m not gonna say I’m not jealous, but that doesn’t mean I--”

_“Plus, Ryan’s the only one Jeremy’s killed before.”_

Michael huffed.  “ _Twice now, evidently.”_

Gavin made a soft noise of horror.   _“Jeremy!  Targeting Ryan twice in a row!”_

“I-it’s not me!” Panic was seeping into his voice, making it louder.  “I swear, two of you are making a huge mistake and one of you is fucking framing me!”

 _“Sure, lil’ J.”_ Michael was unconvinced. _“All the same, if you could just find a quiet corner to wait in until I find a gun--”_

“No-- hey! You guys! Lemme just--”  Jeremy tried to think, his heart hammering in his throat.  Guns, _guns,_ that was his way out.  “L-look, just hold off on shooting me until I get enough gun parts! Killer can’t hold a full gun, right? I’ll fuckin’ make love to one if that’ll convince you!”

 _“Oh, you want a gun up your ass?”_ Michael snorted. _“Find a table and bend over.”_

Geoff chuckled.   _“Hate to break it to ya, J, but that trick’s been done to death. No one’s letting you within throwing distance.”_

“I--”  The words clogged in his throat.  Jeremy rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth, his heart pounding.  “F-fuck…”

He didn’t know what to say.  How to convince them. He had to keep looking for gun parts, but death could be waiting behind any corner, ready to put a bullet in his skull before he could so much as beg.  Even the innocents were gunning for him now.

 _“Doesn’t feel good, does it, Jeremy?”_ Geoff’s voice made Jeremy’s neck prickle. _“Getting figured out too early.  All that anticipation, and you don’t get to claim your prize.  It’s not your fault, buddy, it’s just… your inexperience is showing.  Give it a few more games, you’ll get the hang of it.”_

Jeremy’s voice was weak.  “I-I swear it’s not me… i-it’s probably Gavin, like you said!  Why else would he turn down Ryan’s offer to fuck in the hot tub?  Gavin’s got no fucking self control, he must be--”

_“You havin’ a laugh, mate?  S’bloody stupid to fuck Ryan when he’s got a gun, everyone knows that.  And you can damn well bet I wouldn’t have let Geoff slip away like that, bastard’s too dangerous to leave running around.  Even if he’s pretty when he begs.”_

_“Why Gavin, I’m flattered.”_

_“Cheers, Geoff.  Make Jeremy kiss the gun before you blow him away, will you?”_

“Okay, you know what?” Jeremy snapped.  “Fuck you all. I’m gonna get a gun together, and if I have to shoot a bystander to prove I’m telling the truth, that’s fine by me!  And whoever it is had better have a _damn_ good apology ready when they wake up, starting with letting me out of the cuffs.”

_“Sure, J. Just keep shouting like that, make it easier for one of us to sneak up on you.”_

Jeremy ground his teeth rather than respond.  He stalked across the deck, mind reeling and heart racing.

If he could find some clue, something that incriminated the real killer instead of him, maybe he could convince the other survivors not to gun him down on sight.  Jeremy tried to think back over everything that had happened so far. The killer must have slipped up somehow. There had been too many moves in this game, too many opportunities to do something wrong.

Michael, Gavin, Geoff.  Jeremy closed his eyes, and the faces flashed in front of him.  Michael, Gavin, Geoff. Which one of them had fucked up? Who had given themselves away?  Gavin had tried to make him jump in the hot tub with Ryan. Did that mean something? Was it an effort to get him killed?  Gavin had been pretty transparent about hoping Jeremy might get shot. Michael had some shit to say too. He hadn’t told Jeremy to get in the tub, but he’d also immediately put the idea in everyone’s heads that Jeremy could be the killer.  Fuck, Geoff had climbed in the tub himself, was that something the killer would do? He’d put himself right in front of the gun, just as risky for a killer as a non-killer, but then… he’d ended up _behind_ it.  And then someone else ended up dead.  Was that on purpose?

Jeremy held his breath as he peered around a corner.  All clear. Heart still racing, he slipped back into the ship, leaving the openness of the deck behind.  Fuck, was he just not seeing it, or had the killer really covered their tracks _that_ well?  Had they really gotten this deep in the game without dropping a hint?

A thought crossed his mind that made him freeze.  

… What if he was thinking about this the wrong way?  Instead of looking for a slip-up, he should be looking at who was left.  Who could have gone this long _without slipping up._

Michael, Gavin, Geoff.  Which of them could have pulled off everything that had happened so far?

Michael was blunt, but efficient.  Jeremy knew that from interactions both on the street and in bed.  It was hard to imagine Michael going this long without cutting a bloody swath through the game, dropping more bodies.  Whoever the killer was, they were playing a long game. Being patient. If the killer was Michael, this was a serious deviation from his style.

Gavin was excitable.  Did he really have the patience, the subtlety, to wait and manipulate like this?  Could he really have confronted Ryan, naked and handcuffed in the hot tub, and simply slit him before he could even scream?  Could he really have resisted the urge to do more?

Geoff… Geoff could have manipulated Ryan into shooting Jack on purpose.  He could have _lied_ about being thrown overboard.  He could have killed Ryan to incriminate Jeremy, and continued to incriminate him again and again until Gavin and Michael slowly began to agree.  Geoff was patient. Geoff was clever. Geoff could play a long game.

Fuck, this entire game was _exactly_ Geoff’s style.

 _“So,”_ Michael drawled, _“has Jeremy killed anyone yet?”_

Jeremy swallowed, heart thumping with his new realization.  “It’s s-still not me, Michael.”

_“Gavvy’s alive!”_

Geoff’s chuckle made Jeremy’s hair stand on end.   _“Oh, Jeremy hasn’t found me yet.”_

Jeremy tried to keep his breath level as he peered around another corner, down a narrow hall.  It was almost hard to speak through the tense anticipation that had him by the neck. “Yeah? Don’t be so sure of that, Geoff.”

He knew this hall.  There was a room with a pool table this way, and the last time he’d played, there had been a box on it.

 _“Oh?”_ Geoff hummed.   _“Catch me if you can, Jeremy.”_

Jeremy slipped into the room, and sure enough, a metal box sat on the pool table.  Jeremy popped it open, and the grip for a gun sat inside.

Jack may have screwed him over the last time he played this map, but today it was paying off.  Thanks to her, he had a better sense of where the boxes were and which rooms weren’t worth looking in.

“Jack would’ve vouched for me,” Jeremy grumbled, slipping the grip into his pocket and closing the box with a sharp snap. “She rubbed her fucking boner all over me and walked away breathing.”

 _“Oh, like you weren’t gonna save her for your endgame.”_ Jeremy could _hear_ the dismissive hand wave in Geoff’s voice. _“Any killer would be crazy to slit her quick. Not in_ that _dress.”_

 _“You know, actually, I disagree.  That’s the first good argument I’ve heard for Jeremy not having the knife.”_  Michael, using his ‘reasonable’ voice. _“Our newest killer might not know how to keep his knife in his pocket long enough to_ have _much of an endgame. You really think Jeremy Horndog Dooley had an actual strategy going into this?”_

“H-horndog--”  Jeremy sputtered.  “Fucking _thanks_ , Michael.”

Gavin hummed.   _“Nah, I have to disagree.  Like Geoff said in the tub with Ryan, it’s no good killing someone when the whole ship is listening.  Must’ve taken all the self-control Jeremy had not to blow his load the moment he saw an exposed jugular, but I think--”_

“Shut the fuck up, Gavin.”

_“Oooooh, why don’t you make me, Jeremy?  Put that big sharp knife to good--”_

Gavin gasped, words cutting off with a sudden, harsh intake of breath that made Jeremy freeze.

 _“Gavin?”_ Michael’s voice was sharp.   _“Gavin, what happened?”_

Silence for a few moments. Then...

 _“O-okay. I-I’ll take the deal. Fuck, y-you know I’ll take it-_ oh! _Oh, jesus; y-you were ready!”_

The one-sided conversation between a killer who’d removed their mic, and a victim who was being allowed to broadcast their terror and submission. Each gasp from Gavin made Jeremy’s heart jump.  Fuck; it was a lot more unnerving when he was on the other side of it. Not in on the deal, just left to crouch in the darkness and imagine what might be happening. Whether Gavin’s helpless noises were from pleasure or pain. And how it would affect his odds of survival.

Michael’s breath hitched over the com.   _“Oh shit… fuck.”_

 _“What’s happening, Gavin?”_ Geoff’s voice, breathless and interested. _“Someone toying with you? Touching you?  Tell me what they’re doing.”_

Jeremy bit his tongue as he raced up a flight of stairs.  “J-jeez, Geoff, this is a real hard shift from Mr. ‘Unlike the rest of you, I’m looking for boxes.’”

 _“Hey, you can blame Ryan, he wound me up.  Can’t just sit on a man’s dick in a hot tub then hop back off again just ‘cause you shot someone.”_ There was almost a moan in Geoff’s voice, as though the mere memory had him breathless.   _“S-so yeah, if someone’s squeezing their cock into Gav, I want details.  Is that what’s happening, Gavvy? Sounded almost like they were pushing into you the moment you gave consent.”_

_“A-ah-- o-oh god, y-yes, he’s i-inside me--”_

_“So who is it?  Does it feel nice and familiar, like Michael?  Someone who knows what you like, really pushes all your buttons?”_

Michael snarled through the com.   _“It’s sure as shit not me!”_

_“...Or are you whining like that because the cock in your ass is so big you can’t even think straight?”_

Gavin’s only reply was a helpless whimper.

 _“Don’t bother, Geoff.”_ Michael sounded unamused. _“Gavin’s not gonna say shit, he knows he’ll get slit before he reaches the second syllable.”_

_“Jesus, Michael, that sounded like a threat.  I assumed it was Jeremy. Is there something you wanna confess?”_

_“I ain’t confessing shit.  I just know the facts. One of you idiots is fucking my boy at knifepoint.”_

Jeremy stopped in a doorway, catching his breath and peering into a room.  No boxes. “Ryan gave you guys ideas, huh?”

 _“More like a resurgence of an idea.”_ Michael’s voice was impossibly calm in his ear.   _“Holding your victims silent and helpless is a time-honored tradition. Of course, there’s always the risk that someone will get noble and give you away; sacrifice a few breaths for the betterment of their teammates, many of whom have sacrificed for them in the past. Am I being too obvious, Gavin?”_

Silence for a moment, no sound but Gavin’s breath.  Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to breathe. Gavin could turn this whole game around and clear Jeremy’s name if he was just willing to take a knife to the throat to do it.

From here, the choice felt easy.  Jeremy knew the choice wasn’t so easy with cold steel resting against your neck.  He wasn’t sure Gavin would have the balls to--

 _“I-it’s Jeremy!”_ Gavin blurted the words quickly, as though afraid he would run out of time. _“Jeremy’s the killer, he’s the one fucking me!”_

Jeremy’s heart dropped into his stomach.  No, that… that wasn’t what Gavin was supposed to say.  

“Wh-- _what_?”

Michael let out a long huff.   _“Well, Jeremy, it’s been good, but that’s my boy you’re fucking with.  Next bullet has your name on it.”_

“I-it’s not me, I swear it’s not me!  Gavin, what the _fuck_?”

_“I’m s-sorry, I... o-oh bloody hell, y-you’ve probably got no choice now, right? J-just let me come before you do me in, I-I won’t even struggle, j-just...please…”_

_“Well well well.”_ The satisfaction in Geoff’s voice made Jeremy’s jaw tighten. _“I guess the cat’s out of the bag.  Now the only question is what kind of killer Jeremy’s going to be.  Will he be merciful enough to let Gavin come? What do you think, Gavin? Assuming Jeremy hasn’t already slit your throat for your impudence.”_

_“Nnnh--”_

_“Oh, still among the living!  I’m a little surprised.”_

Jeremy picked up his pace, running down the hall, no longer trying to be quiet.  If he was right, Geoff was occupied with Gavin right now. Michael was the only one left who could -- and would -- try to kill him.

He had to take the gamble of running and possibly drawing attention to himself.  It was worth it to find parts faster.

 _“Do you think you’re gonna get to come, Gav?”_ Geoff purred. _“Think that knife at your throat will wait to taste you until you’re satisfied?”_

Something clicked in Jeremy’s mind. A memory from the cave, of Jack shouting a warning over the com. Catching a slip that had flown right by him.

“H-how do you know the knife’s at his throat?” he blurted.

_“Please, Jeremy. We all know it’s you, don’t try and be clever. There’s only so many positions you can fuck someone in when your only guarantee that they’ll behave is a few inches of steel.”_

Gavin moaned at that, the wrecked sound of someone who saw their own death coming and was racing it to climax. _“R-right you are, Geoff- c-cold on my throat, s-slipped a few times...t-there’s blood trickling…”_

 _“Mmm.”_ The pure, unadulterated smugness in Geoff’s voice made Jeremy’s hands curl into fists. _“Sounds amateurish. Are you a horny killer, Jeremy?”_

“I’m not the fucking killer!”

 _“But say you were.”_ The voice in his ear was a soft purr, pinning him down like a bug to velvet. _“Is this how you’d do it? It’s okay to be proud of your handiwork, Jeremy. Everyone has a style.”_

“Just--” Jeremy couldn’t think of a comeback; a sharp retort that would do anything but fan the flames Geoff was stoking. “Just shut up--”

_“Heh, like you’re not enjoying having an audience.  And speaking of audience… Michael, are you listening?”_

_“Oh, I’m listening all right. Jeremy, you’re gonna wake up in your pod with Gavin ready to slide his cock into your ass, and he’s gonna thank me for sending you to him. Just so you know. Little tradition we have.”_

The thought made him shudder.  Jeremy groaned, rubbing a shaking hand down his face. “S-sounds great, except that I’m not the one who’s gonna fucking kill him!”

 _“Hey.”_ Geoff again, the smug bastard. _“Have you killed him? Gavin, you still with us?”_

 _“S-still here.”_ The words were gasped against the mic, as though the speaker didn’t have breath to spare. _“S-so close. Just...a l-little more- f-faster-”_

 _“Are you gonna, Jeremy?”_ Geoff’s voice was deeper, suddenly. Tinted with pleasure, as though Gavin’s words had hit him hard. _“Gonna give him what he wants?”_

It was like the cave all over again; the killer taking requests. Pushing him to make decisions about what was done to the victim.

“Wh- why are you asking me?”

 _“‘Cause we know it’s you, Jeremy.  At this point in the game, it’s fine to own it.  Won’t stalking us be more fun if you can be open about what you are?  Really bask in the fear of your victims? Come on, don’t keep us in suspense, what’s gonna happen to Gavin?”_ Geoff was panting audibly.   _“Are you gonna let him get off before you slit that pretty throat?”_

If Jeremy hadn’t suspected Geoff before, that moment would have sealed it.  He recognized the hunger in Geoff’s voice; that was how it felt when you had someone trapped against you, at your mercy and about to die.  He just had to push, to make Geoff give himself away. It had to be now while Geoff was too aroused to keep his level head.

_“Nnh, c’mon, Jeremy, what are you gonna do?  Make him come, or kill him?”_

Jeremy groaned, loud and unashamed, letting all of his arousal show in his next two words.

“Kill him.”

Geoff’s gasp was an instant response, as was the wet _thunk_ of the knife driving down.  Gavin choked, weak and startled, then let out one last breath as Geoff was still moaning and shuddering.  Jeremy could hear Geoff panting over the com, catching his breath after the most _obvious_ orgasm Jeremy had ever overheard.

Jeremy let out a weak breath.  “S-sorry, Gav,” he mumbled. “I had to know.”  God, he was _hard._

 _“F-fuck, lil J…”_ Geoff laughed weakly. _“You put on a hell of a performance.”_

Michael growled.   _“Watch your step, Geoff.  Even if you’re not the killer, you’re on thin fucking ice for jacking off to Gavin’s murder.”_

 _“Well, maybe your boy shouldn’t sound so hot when he dies.”_ Geoff sighed, pleased.   _“You liked hearing it too, didn’t you?”_

_“Yeah, but I’m allowed to like it.  That’s my boy, I’ll whack off to his murder if I damn well please.”_

_“Apologies, Michael.  Next time I’ll get your permission before I jizz to the sound of Gavin breathing his last breath.”_

_“I appreciate you keeping things civil, Geoff.  Always a gentleman.”_

_“My pleasure.”_

Jeremy took a long breath to steady himself.  God, his head was reeling like he’d been the one to slice Gavin open.  He touched his com as he continued running down the hall. “Michael, do you have a full gun?”

_“That’s for me to know and you to find out, asshole.”_

“If you do, you’ve gotta shoot Geoff as soon as you see him.”

_“Yeah, I don’t think so.  You ready to eat some lead, lil’ J?”_

“Fuck, were you even listening to Geoff?  Could he have been more obvious? He was balls-deep in Gavin that whole time!”

_“That’s not how Gavin told it.”_

“Michael, listen --”  Jeremy took a breath as he ran.  “I-if I’m the killer, why did I let Gavin live after he ratted me out?”

Silence.  Jeremy raced down the hall, hand pressed to his com, lest he miss Michael’s reply.  He could almost hear the gears turning in Michael’s head.

When someone spoke, it was Geoff, not Michael.

 _“Punishment.”_ Geoff’s voice was soft.   _“What’s worse, a quick death, or a nice deep fuck that cuts off riiiiight before Gavin has the chance to finish?  It was pretty cruel, Jeremy.”_

Michael huffed.   _“Thanks for reminding me, Geoff.  When I send Jeremy back to the respawn room, I’ll remind Gavin not to let him fucking come until he’s begging.”_

“W-wait, Michael, that’s not what--”

_“Hey there, Michael.”_

The sound of Geoff’s voice made Jeremy’s footsteps skid to a stop.  He panted, not daring to move.

_“Geoff, my man!  Oh shit, you’re a damn sight.  Where’d your suit go?”_

_“Uh… it was wet.”_

_“Well, you’re a little under-dressed for a fancy party like this, but I’m sure as shit not gonna kick you out.  How can I help you?”_

_“You see, I’m wondering if you’ve got a full gun.  I mean, if you’re comfortable telling me that, of course, since I certainly wouldn’t pressure you.”_

_“Sure, buddy!  Seeing as you’re not the killer, I’m happy to trust you with that knowledge!”_

Jeremy could barely breathe.  “M-Michael, shoot him! He’s gonna kill you!”

_“Afraid I don’t have a full gun, Geoff, but I’m just one part short.  You don’t happen to have a barrel, do you?”_

Jeremy’s words were nearly a shout into his mic.  “Michael, no!”

_“Well, look at that, I sure do!  Would you like it?”_

_“Why Geoff, how kind of you to offer!”_

_“There you go, buddy!  Give Jeremy my regards.”_

_“Oh, I will.  Lemme just--”_

The muffled _thump_ made Jeremy jolt.  Even though he knew it was coming, his blood went cold.

 _“...After all,”_ Geoff drawled, _“he’ll be joining in you the respawn room pretty soon.  Oh man, he must be pissed at you right now.”_

Michael’s voice was strained, the sort of tightness produced by a knife pressed against a throat.   _“G-god fucking son of a damMIT I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, GAVIN--”_

 _“Awww, don’t be mean to Gavin.  He was only doing what I told him to.”_ Geoff let out a long sigh.   _“He lied soooo pretty for me, didn’t he?  Mmh, wish I could have seen Jeremy’s face when he got framed...”_

“My face is gonna be the last fucking thing you see!” Jeremy snarled as he ran. There was another box nearby, he was sure of it.  He remembered finding an empty one around here last time. Just...down the hall, and around the corner… “Michael, keep him busy, I’ve almost got a gun!”

There was no answer, and for a few cold seconds he thought Michael might already be dead. Then...

_“Aww, Michael, are you okay?  What happened, buddy?”_

_“Mmmh--!”_

_“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.  Is someone being mean to you? Is that it?”_

Michael couldn’t seem to form a reply outside of muffled grunts and whines.  Jeremy’s breath was quick. He had a feeling he knew what was smothering Michael’s words.

Geoff’s soft groan confirmed it.   _“Awwwww, what’s wrong?  Is someone gagging you with their cock?”_ This time, Geoff couldn’t hold back a chuckle, and Jeremy could hear Michael choke.   _“That sucks, man.  Poor baby.”_

Fuck, he could _hear_ it.  The slick rhythmic pumps of a mouth sliding up and down a cock. Jeremy panted as he ran.

The room was right up ahead. Jeremy grabbed at the doorway as he passed through it, not trusting that his polished shoes wouldn’t slide with the speed he was running. The box was right where he’d thought it would be, the lid still closed.

Jeremy creaked the box open, and his heart almost stopped.

A magazine lay inside.  The last part. He had a full gun.  He grabbed all the parts in his pocket and dumped them on the table, starting to assemble them.  Muscle memory guided his motions. If he hadn’t done this a million times before, he’d never be able to do it now, not with excitement humming through every vein.

He had a gun, _he had a gun._ He was the hunter now.

 _“Heh.  The look on your face.  You’re real cute when you’re pissed off, Michael.”_ Geoff let out a soft, pleased noise.   _“Hey, buddy, I’m gonna need you to not take me quite so deep for a second.  There’s about to be a lot of steel in your throat and I’d hate to get my dick near that.”_

_“Mm-mh--!”_

Michael’s strangled noise of panic made Jeremy’s heart jump.  For a moment, his hands froze, gun in one hand and bullet in the other.  He couldn’t resist, he needed to hear it. He held his breath as he listened.

It was a soft sound.  A slippery, muffled _thk:_ a knife sliding into a neck.  The sound sent a chill down Jeremy’s spine.  Michael made one more noise, weak and muffled.  Jeremy shuddered, his breath suddenly heavy. God, even _hearing_ a death sent his heart thumping, like he was the one holding the knife.  He wished he could see the blood seeping into Michael’s crisp, clean, white suit, staining it red.

Geoff let out a long, happy sigh.   _“Mmm.  You still look pretty with a cock in your mouth, Michael.”_

Something thumped over the com.  It sounded like a body.

_“...But I can do better.  You’re less fun without a pulse.”_

Jeremy took a deep breath.  He loaded his gun, cocked it, and lifted it to his lips, letting his breath out so it steamed against the metal.

This game was about to change.

\----

Geoff was disturbingly quiet as Jeremy stalked carefully through the hallways. He’d been expecting more taunts, jabs and teases to keep him talking, distracted enough for Geoff to get the jump on him. But there was nothing, not even the sound of breath through the com.

He’d never find Geoff in this maze of a boat, and in any regard, it was hard to imagine Geoff lurking in some dark corner.  Geoff didn’t know he had a full gun, so he’d be on the hunt. Prowling through the polished wood and brass like a patient, hungry lion, following Jeremy’s scent.

Jeremy needed to get out in the open. Geoff had the advantage in cramped halls, where he could stab with a knife before Jeremy could aim his gun.  Jeremy had to make it to the deck, to a vantagepoint with all exits within view, and shoot Geoff the second he showed his smug face. Better yet, get to the rear of the boat, put the sea at his back, force Geoff to either face down his gun or take another dip in the sea to get behind him.  

Fuck, he shouldn’t have pictured that.  The thought of Geoff climbing out of the dark waters with a knife and a smile, slipping up behind him, was going to keep him awake at night.  It was nervewracking to keep his back on the sea as he crossed the deck, walking backwards, gun held up and ready to fire at the first sign of movement.

Jeremy had almost reached the hot tub when something moved in the corner of his eye.

His gun snapped towards it, finger almost squeezing the trigger before he made himself freeze.  The sight of the hot tub made Jeremy’s eyes widen, his finger loosen.

“...What the fuck…”

On the far edge of the hot tub sat Ryan, perfectly alive and staring wide-eyed at Jeremy.  His hands were cuffed to the guard rail, a bow tie stuffed between his teeth as a makeshift gag.  Aside from the cuffs and the gag, he was just as naked as he was before. Jeremy lowered the gun, enraptured by the sight.

“...Shit, Geoff was lying about finding you dead too.  He was just saving you for last.”

A sudden beep in his ear made him jump.  A moment later, Jack’s voice came through the com.

_“Woooooooo, this is ghost Jack.  I’m speaking to your com only, Jeremy, so I don’t give away your position.  I see you’ve found a gagged Ryan. Lucky you! If he slaps twice against any surface, that’s a silent safeword, and you need to stop whatever you’re doing.  Nod if you understand.”_

Jeremy nodded, wondering which hidden camera was watching him right now.  He cast a glance around the deck. He sure as shit couldn’t see one.

_“Good boy!  Ghost Jack out.”_

The com beeped again and went silent.  Jeremy chewed his lip as his gaze settled back on Ryan.  Ryan was still watching him with wide eyes, his face clearly flushed from more than just the heat of the hot tub.  Jeremy bit his lip and tilted his mic away from his lips, keeping his next words private.

“Damn, Ryan.”  Jeremy slipped two fingers into his vibrant orange tie, loosening the knot that Geoff had so lovingly made.  “You’re a goddamn honey trap, you know that?”

Jeremy stripped as quickly as he could without worrying that he was going to damage the expensive clothing.  If he fucked up his nice clothes, Geoff might kill him _outside_ the game.  Jeremy slipped off his tie, his purple jacket, his dress shirt.  Each item was laid carefully on a lounge chair. Ryan seemed to be watching with increased panic, shaking his head frantically and muffling protests into the makeshift gag.

Jeremy paused, hand on his pants.  With a knowing smile, he lifted the gun.

“...What, is this spooking you?”  It took a lot of resolve not to teasingly point the barrel at Ryan’s head.  “Think I’m gonna fuck you at gunpoint? I _could_ if I wanted.”

The expensive shoes came off, then his pants, and finally his boxers.  Ryan’s nervous gaze dropped from Jeremy’s face to his dick, his frantic muffled noises faltering.

Jeremy laughed as he slipped his legs into the hot tub.  “I _wish,_ Ryan, but the game’s still on.  Tell you what: I’ll shoot Geoff, and you can blow me after.  A nice big thank you for your hero.”

The water was beautifully warm.  Jeremy couldn’t hold back a sigh as he slipped all the way in, gun held up out of the water.  It was deep. Almost up to his chest. This was his first time in the hot tub, and fuck, he _could’ve_ gotten in to screw Ryan instead of just to rescue him.

… Of course, they were both naked in the hot tub now, with a gun in the mix and some handcuffs as a bonus.  And Ryan was already prepped, slick and loose from Geoff. It was going to take some serious self-control not to slot between Ryan’s legs, slide inside him while he moaned through the gag…

Ryan’s muffled protests had resumed, more frantic than before.  His handcuffs rattled as he yanked on them. Jeremy sighed as he stepped close.  

“I hope you appreciate how goddamn well behaved I’m being right now.”  He slipped his fingers under the bow tie, tugging it out from between Ryan’s teeth.  “That’s the _second_ time I could have fucked you in this hot tub and have resisted the urge.  I’m a fucking saint, frankly.”

Ryan’s breath was heavy.  Despite his desperation to speak just moments before, it seemed to take him a few moments to find his words.

“Jeremy.”  Ryan’s voice was hushed, almost as though trying to soothe him.  “He’ll let you safeword. You know that, right?”

Apprehension prickled on Jeremy’s neck.  “Yeah, I-- Why are you telling me that?”

Cold steel pressed against Jeremy’s neck.  His gun jolted up and was halted by a firm hand on his wrist.  He could feel a warm, bare body press up behind him, feel breath on his neck, hear Geoff’s familiar chuckle.

“Oh, Jeremy Jeremy…”  Geoff slid the knife gently across Jeremy’s neck, not quite hard enough to slit.  “You were in such a rush to save your princess, you forgot about the dragon.”

The gun was pointed at the sky, held in place by Geoff’s firm grip.  Jeremy’s arm shook with strain as he tried to move it.

“Sh-shit shit shit --”

The knife pressed, sharp tip pricking against Jeremy’s throat as it bobbed.

“Shhh, you don’t need that anymore, Jeremy.  Be a good boy and let it go, okay?”

Jeremy’s grip tightened on the gun.  He winced as the knife pressed harder, threatening to break skin.  Instinct thrashed in his mind, panicking at the press of steel. No matter how brave he wanted to be, it was always different once the knife was at his throat.  

“Come on, Jeremy.”  Geoff’s voice was soft, but held more threat than the knife.  “Haven’t you lost this game enough times to know what defeat feels like?  Don’t make me convince you.”

With one last frustrated groan, Jeremy let his grip loosen.  The gun slipped from his shaking fingers. It splashed into the hot water with finality, his last defense gone.  The sharp edge of the knife eased off, the flat of the blade trailing gently down Jeremy’s neck as though petting him.

“There you go.”  Geoff’s hand released his wrist, drifting instead to his face, tilting it gently.  “You know when you’re beat, don’t you?”

The gentle touch drew goosebumps on Jeremy’s arms.  “Nnnh…”

“And _you_ , Ryan.  I’m surprised by you.”  Geoff tsked in disappointment.  “You could have warned Jeremy I was coming.”

A flush darkened Ryan’s face.  “Y-you were already too close.”

“Oooh I don’t think so.  When your gag came off, Jeremy still had time to turn around and shoot me, if he’d been quick.”  Geoff trailed a finger along Jeremy’s jaw. “...But you just had to see what I’d do to him, didn’t you?  Heartless.”

“S-so what _are_ you gonna do to me?”  Jeremy almost couldn’t get the words out.  This was it, he’d lost the game. This was where Geoff killed him.  The only question left was _how._

“Ryan.  You opened this little game with a _proposal._ ”  Geoff traced his finger slowly down Jeremy’s chest.  “So I’m going to close it with another. Just for you.  After all...I owe you, don’t I? Both in the very literal sense that I owe my impending victory to you, and also that I _used_ you.”

Ryan’s breath hitched.  Jeremy could feel Geoff’s smile against his neck.

“Not _just_ as a fleshlight, Ryan.  I used you to kill Jack, didn’t I?  Like a sexy little blunt instrument.  So, here’s my offer.”

The knife tilted, the needle tip pressing under Jeremy’s jaw.  He winced as his head was forced to tilt, the edge almost drawing blood.

Geoff’s voice was soft and calm.  “I’m gonna kill Jeremy. Right here. In front of you.  And _you…_ can tell me how I should do it.”

Jeremy froze.  “Wh-- what?”

Ryan’s eyes dilated the moment the words left Geoff’s mouth.  He nodded vigorously. Jeremy sputtered.

“Wh-what the hell, Ryan?”

Geoff laughed.  “Slow down, Ryan, I need a little something from you too.  Just need you to tell me when he’s getting _close_.”  The knife pressed up sharply, laid with the edge against Jeremy’s neck.  “Don’t know if you were listening, but your boy wanted me to slit Gavvy’s throat before he had the chance to finish.”  The knife scraped down as Jeremys’ throat bobbed under it. “I think lil’ J should get a taste of his own medicine, hm?  Let’s not let him cross the finish line.”

Jeremy winced as the knife bit into his skin.  “R-Ryan, come on, man, you think he’s gonna just shoot himself in the head for you after that?”  He forced the words out, feeling the pressure against his throat shift as he spoke. Geoff held the knife rigidly, not giving him any breathing room. “D-don’t fucking cooperate with him, he can’t offer you shit!”

“Oooooh, you’re right about that, Jeremy.”  Geoff nipped his ear, light and teasing. “I’m gonna kill Ryan last, just as soon as I’m done with you.  You can watch from the respawn room as I make your big, strong boyfriend beg for it. He’s so pretty when he begs, isn’t he?”  The next bite on Jeremy’s ear was _harder._ “...Just like he’s going to beg for me to _cut_ you. Aren’t you, Ryan? You wanna see that pretty red before your buddy breathes his last.”

Ryan nodded, eyes wide with want, and the sight sent a shiver down Jeremy’s spine. Fuck, what kind of killer was Geoff?  Was he as ruthless as Ryan? ...Would it matter, if he was fulfilling someone else’s fantasy?

“J-jesus, Ryan,” Jeremy whined.  “Just _pretend_ to feel conflicted?”

“Y-you’ve got a deal.”  There was no hesitation in Ryan’s voice, only desire.  Jeremy could hear his breath, heavy with need. “Fuck, I’ll take it.”

“Mm, I know you will.”  Geoff’s soft laugh made Jeremy’s neck prickle.  “You’re so _easy,_ Ryan.”

“G-god _dammit_ Ryan, at least let me get off!”

“Shhh.  Try to relax…”  Ryan’s gaze was following the knife, his breath slow and heavy.  “I won’t tell him to hurt you more than you’ll like...”

Jeremy shuddered as the knife trailed down from his neck to his shoulder, tracing along a collarbone.  “Y-you’re gonna fucking pay for this in the next round, Ryan.”

Ryan’s breath hitched.  “Cut him.”

The knife bit into Jeremy’s skin in a hot, smooth line across his chest.  Jeremy gasped, jolting in Geoff’s grip. It was over before he realized it, a clean red wound shining across his heaving chest, thrumming in pain.

Oh fuck fuck fuck he was about to get cut to death.

“Happy to _serve,_ Ryan,” Geoff purred.  He caressed the knife tenderly over Jeremy’s chest.  “Go on, don’t hold back. Have a little _fun.”_

Blood was beginning to trickle down from the wound, a thin red river over Jeremy’s body.  As it touched the water, it bloomed scarlet across the surface like an unfolding rose. Already, Jeremy was feeling lightheaded.  Fuck, he had no idea how slow Geoff was going to make the killing. That knife could slit his throat at any second, but what if it _lingered..._

“You know what I like, Geoff.”  Ryan’s breath was heavy as he watched the blood trickle.  “ _He_ knows what I like.”

Geoff’s arm tightened around him, and Jeremy barely had time to curse before the knife was _cutting_ into him again, this time carving down his shoulder.

_“Aaah--!”_

He couldn’t hold back a cry.  The cut continued to throb even after Geoff pulled the knife away. Jeremy’s breath was growing ragged.  He felt Geoff kiss the side of his neck as though to soothe the pain, that tattooed arm loosening around him, hand caressing his hip.  Fuck, the water was staining pink with how much he was bleeding...

“Oh, Jeremy…”  Geoff whispered the words against his neck, as though Ryan couldn’t hear.  “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to killing you.”

The hand on Jeremy’s hip slid to his thigh, squeezing under the hot water.  Jeremy’s head was starting to spin as he felt that hand slip between his legs, fondling his -- fuck, his _hard_ cock.  The warm water made everything feel so _smooth_ as Geoff’s hand wrapped around it, giving it a squeeze.  Fuck fuck fuck, that was the first touch his dick had gotten since the damn game started.

The knife angled against his chest, tip pressing.

“Where do you want it, Ryan?”

“Nnnh--”  Ryan was panting.  “Belly.”

“Sh-shit--” Jeremy tensed as he felt the knife move, trail over his skin to find the right place.  It laid against his belly, edge down, lingering against the skin, and Geoff gave Jeremy’s dick a slow, warm squeeze.  

“O-oh fuck--”

Jeremy gasped again as the knife cut, a hot clean slice.  Geoff’s hand didn’t stop moving, teasing Jeremy’s cock as new streams of blood joined the flow.

Ryan groaned.  “Oh f-fuck…”

The heat of the hot tub was starting to become oppressive.  Jeremy panted, his head lolling back against Geoff’s shoulder as the man’s hand moved over his cock.  He was too _warm,_ and so much of his blood was dripping into the water, it was making him dizzy...

Geoff chuckled, suddenly holding him up with both arms.  “Whoa there, buddy, you’re looking a little tired! Careful, I don’t want you slipping and drowning.”

“Nnh..”  Jeremy stumbled as Geoff’s grip shifted, tugging him backwards.  “Sh-shut your fuckin’… you’re gonna... kill me anyway…”

“Well.” Geoff pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “Not _that_ quickly.”

The backwards movement had Jeremy stumbling, Geoff walking them slowly towards the edge of the hot tub.  Everything seemed to spin as Geoff hauled him up, coaxing him up out of the steaming waters to sit on the edge, the care in his movements a gentle lie.  Jeremy wobbled without the hot water supporting him, but Geoff wrapped an arm around his chest to hold him steady.

“Shh, easy there, I’ve got you…”

He was settled between Geoff’s thighs, his legs dangling in the water, his body still wet and too hot.  It was… comfy, leaning back against a warm bare body, not having to support himself. He could almost forget the sting where the knife had sliced into him.  Geoff leaned his chin against Jeremy’s shoulder, nuzzling close as though their embrace was something more innocent, but Jeremy could feel a boner pressed against his back.

“Wish you were here, Ryan?”

“F-fuck…”

Jeremy’s spinning gaze slipped down from Ryan’s face.  Ryan was hard, cock twitching against his thigh.

“Because you can be, at least in spirit.” The knife trailed lightly between Jeremy’s pecs. “What should I do to him next?”

“R-Ryan... ” Jeremy’s words were starting to slur.  Even with most of his body out of the steaming water, he felt _so_ hot.  “Just don’t... d-don’t get carried away...”

“Shhhh.” Geoff’s voice was a dangerous whisper against his skin. “Ryan can get as carried away as he pleases.  You know how to make me stop. But until you do…” The knife _slid_ , opening a shallow cut. “You’re his entertainment.  And mine.”

Ryan moaned at the sight, hands twisting in his cuffs.  Geoff lifted the blade, letting the red flash in the moonlight.

“You like that, Ryan?” Geoff’s words were a taunt, the same tone he’d used the last time he’d been in the hot tub, goading Ryan towards murder. “You want to see me do that again?”

“Nnnh- Yes…” Ryan’s gaze shifted hungrily between the knife and Jeremy’s face. “N-nice and… nnnh, _gently_ this time...”

“Oooh, _gently,_ hm?  That’s not a word I hear from you often, Ryan.”

The next cut was equally shallow, not much deeper than a paper cut, tracing a long, red line. It stung, but not enough to make Jeremy cry out.  A soft moan slipped out of him, his gaze locked on Ryan as though trapped there.

“Hmm, are you sure this is going to be enough for you, Ryan?”  The knife moved again, but didn’t slice, a sweet caress across Jeremy’s cheek. “You played rougher than this with Jeremy, didn’t you?  Don’t you want me to just… press a little harder?”

“...Yeah.” Ryan’s voice was hushed, the admission dragged out of him the way Geoff had pushed his bullet. “Yeah, I do.  Fuck, k-keep going.”

“Mmm, just a moment, Ryan.”  Geoff cupped Jeremy’s jaw, tilting his face as Ryan whined in need.  “You having a good time, buddy? Would you say you like this… more, or less than your other killers?  Speak up, don’t be shy. I won’t be offended.”

“Nnnh…”  Jeremy twitched as the knife trailed along his thigh.  “F-fuck you, Geoff...”

“I just wanna make sure you’re having a good time.  Lemme make you feel a little… better.”

His hand slid down over Jeremy’s wet chest, smearing hot blood and pool water.  Jeremy’s eyes fluttered as Geoff’s hand closed around his dick again. Fuck, the cuts _hurt,_ but Geoff’s hand felt so _good…_

Ryan groaned.  “C-cut him again, don’t stop.”

“Mmm, how should I cut him?”

“ _Deep.”_

Jeremy twitched as the knife sliced into his leg, inches from where Geoff’s hand was pumping over his cock.  Oh. Fuck. He hadn’t even seen Geoff’s hand move. It was surreal to see the knife buried in his leg, something that must be pain pulsing behind it...

Jeremy watched dizzily as the knife slipped out of him again, a gasp choking out of him.  Oh, that was… oh. That was a _lot_ of blood running down his thigh.  Fuck.

“Hmmm, think he’s gonna live long enough to come, Ryan?”

Ryan chewed his lip, drinking in the sight of Jeremy’s blood running down his legs, cock twitching in Geoff’s hand.  “No. He’s gonna die first.”

Jeremy’s breath was growing weaker.  Blood was trickling down his body, painting Geoff’s wrist where it was moving against his hip, smearing red across his skin with each slow drag. Pooling between his open legs, dripping over the edge of the hot tub like food coloring into water. He could see it when he looked down, each soft plume of red twisting and dancing in the gentle current caused by his and Ryan’s breathing. And he could see Ryan watching it, each time his eyes wandered higher. Ryan’s gaze was running up and down the trail of blood, savoring the points where it started, the places it was smeared against Jeremy’s body.

“You like that, Ryan?” Geoff’s voice was soft, knowing. “Like how that looks? How much more, do you think, before the water turns red? How much would I have to cut him before you were _bathing_ in his blood?”

Ryan squirmed in his cuffs with a whimper.  “F-fuck…”

Geoff’s chest was warm and firm against his back. Jeremy let his head fall back, fully supported by Geoff’s body. The hot water around his legs felt seductive, like a drug. Encouraging him to relax, to give up control...

“Aww, baby. You look like you need something.”  Geoff’s voice was soft, almost comforting. “Tell me. I’m listening.”

 _Water_ , was the first word in Jeremy’s mind. A cool glass of water to cut through the heat, the sticky feeling of blood loss.  He was so thirsty, so hot… He needed something to clear his head and wake him up, but he wasn’t _supposed_ to wake up. The dizziness wasn’t going to leave.  Geoff was going to keep cutting him, touching him, until he...

Instead of “water,” Jeremy weakly groaned one word.  “M-more…”

“Oh, _more_?”  Geoff’s voice was syrupy sweet.  His hand quickened suddenly, and Jeremy’s hips would have bucked if he’d had the strength.  “Mmm, are you sure about that? The faster your heart beats, the faster you’ll bleed out.”

“A-ah--”

“Does that sound worth it to you, lil’ J?”

“Y-yes… yes, _please…”_

The _noise_ Ryan made sent a shiver of pleasure up Jeremy’s spine, made his cock throb in Geoff’s hand.  It was _almost_ enough to cheat Geoff out of his end-without-an-end; make Geoff kill him with one hand while his come was still warm on the other.  Even as Jeremy’s vision was starting to fade, he felt so _close..._

Ryan’s hands strained against the cuffs as he squirmed on the edge of the hot tub, thighs rubbing together as though wishing his cock was sandwiched between them. Fuck, desperation was a good look on him.  Ryan must be _aching_ to be the one holding the knife, making him bleed…

“Oooh, Ryan, that’s cheating.  Don’t think you’re allowed to finish without permission either.”

Jeremy’s eyelids fluttered as he felt cold steel press against his throat.  He was too sleepy to do more than moan softly.

“Maybe it’s time to let Jeremy take a nice long nap.  Hm?” Geoff kissed the side of Jeremy’s neck. “What do you think, buddy?  You ready to close your eyes?”

“A-ah…”  Jeremy managed a soft gasp as the knife tilted.  “Y… yes…”

“Don’t worry, baby.  I’ll take _good_ care of Ryan.”

The next slice was quick.

\----

Consciousness seeped back to him.

Jeremy blinked his eyes open, staring up at the familiar whiteness of the respawn room.  The fog of blood loss and overheating was gone, leaving his mind clear. The air was gentle and balmy on his bare body, the ache of wounds blissfully gone.  

“Hey Jeremy.” Jack’s familiar voice was followed shortly by her face as she leaned over the open pod. “How’re you feeling, honey?”

“Mmm…” Jeremy stretched without sitting up, flexing his new body against the pod’s cushioning. Whole, unharmed, nothing hurting or pulling.  No wobble in his vision. “I’m good, Jack. Feel real good.”

Jack leaned her arms on the edge of the pod, resting her chin on them.  “You just can’t stop bleeding out on that boat, can you?”

“Heh.”  Jeremy chuckled.  “Yeah, I guess not.”

The warmth of the pod against his skin, the familiar voice of a teammate, the background hum of machinery all told him he was safe.  He felt good, refreshed.

A new sound made him pause, blinking. Over the soft noises of the pod, he could hear… gasping. Little moans and whimpers. The unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh.

He sat up, looking past Jack, towards the far side of the room, where--

Michael had Gavin pinned back against the wall, fucking into him with quick, brutal thrusts. One of Gavin’s legs was wrapped tightly around his waist, held firmly in place by Michael’s hand. Forcing him to balance on one foot, or, no-- to let _Michael_ balance him, even as he was _unbalanced_ with each rocking thrust. Gavin was moaning, eyes closed as he took it, letting Michael pound him as hard as he wanted, clinging to him like a lifeline.

Arousal came spiking back like a spear.  Jeremy’s newly-respawned body was suddenly flooded with the memory of Geoff’s breath on his neck, a wet hand moving between his legs, promising a release that _never came--_

Fuck, he may have respawned into a body that never had blueballs, but he needed to _come._

“Oh, yeah, about that…”  Jack tapped her fingers on the edge of Jeremy’s pod.  “Well, you know Michael. He doesn’t like being lied to.  Gavin’s been making it up to him since Michael died.” She placed a gentle hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.  “Hey, this is a lot to wake up to. If you need it, they’re happy to move somewhere else.”

Jeremy tore his eyes away from the sight long enough to look at Jack.  “Oh, they’d better fucking not.”

“Rise and shine, Jer.” Michael didn’t bother turning, speaking the words into the side of Gavin’s neck as he continued to thrust. “Don’t mind me. Just showing this _traitor_ what happens when you lie to me.”

On the word ‘traitor’ his hips made a brutal motion, drawing a cry from Gavin.

“He’s all yours when I’m done with him,” Michael added. “S’only fair, since you’re the one he fuckin’ framed.”

“S-sorry, Jeremy!” Gavin’s voice was wrecked, words pushed out between gritted teeth as he was fucked without mercy. “E-every man for himself, a-and all that. C-completely understand i-if I h-have a- a debt to pay…”

Jack giggled as she leaned back against Jeremy’s pod, watching the show.  “I _warned_ you they’d be pissed, honey.”

“Fuck…” Jeremy slid out of his pod, bare feet steady on the smooth tile floor. “Are you gonna let him come, Michael?”

“Dunno.”  Michael tossed a savage grin over his shoulder.  “Should I?”

Jeremy let his gaze drag over the pair of them.  Gavin’s leg was wobbling as he struggled to keep his balance, rocked by each thrust.  He could see the tension in Michael’s shoulders where he was holding Gavin up, one arm hooked under his knee, the other hand cupping his ass.  Jeremy bit his lip.

“Mmh, it _was_ kinda mean of me to goad Geoff into killing him before he could finish… maybe I should make it up to him.”

Gavin whimpered softly against Michael’s shoulder, and Jeremy could’ve sworn his cock gave a little twitch unrelated to the fast pace with which Michael was rocking into him.

“Pfff, kinda mean of _Gavin_ to fuckin’ frame you,” Michael shot back.  “Why not be mean right back? Besides, Gav likes it when you bully him _.”_

Gavin’s hips jerked so hard he almost lost his balance.  He caught himself against the wall with ragged breath. Michael’s hand fisted in his hair, pulling his head up, forcing him to meet Michael’s eye.

“What do you think, traitor? You think Jeremy’ll get you off when he fucks you? Oh, and I mean the _real_ Jeremy, not the fucking killer plowing you from behind, whispering lies in your ear.”

Gavin’s gaze was hopeful and pleading as it drifted to Jeremy.  “H-he-- y-you’ll take care of me, right boy? I-I’m sure you only told Geoff to slit me so he’d incriminate himself, n-no hard feelings--”

Michael laughed.  “ _No hard feelings?_ You sure about that?  Geoff just tortured Jeremy to death.”  He bit his next words into Gavin’s neck.  “Because. Of. _You_.”

At the reminder, Jeremy’s eyes drifted to the screen in the corner of the room, showing footage of the game.  He’d almost forgotten it was still going.

The camera angle couldn’t have been better.  For a moment, Jeremy was entranced. Ryan was sitting on the edge of the hot tub, cuffed to the rail just like before, but now Geoff was slotted between his legs, hand doing something unseen between Ryan’s shaking thighs.  Each slow motion made the water shiver. Jeremy could see dripping cuts on Ryan’s legs, see the bloody knife pressed against Ryan’s throat as he gasped. The hot tub water was pinker than Jeremy remembered.

Fuck, his own blood must still be pouring into the warm water while Geoff took the prize that could have been Jeremy’s.

Michael growled against Gavin’s neck.  “You think Jeremy might still be a little pissed at you for that?”

“I-I--” Gavin shivered, the hope in his eyes dimming.  “Th-that’s-- nnnh--”

Jeremy crossed his arms as he leaned back against the open pod.  “You know, that’s a damn good point, Michael. You and I would have had no problem taking out Geoff if Gavin hadn’t fucking framed me.  And Geoff sure as shit didn’t kill me quick. What do you think, Jack?”

Jack leaned her head on his shoulder, hair tickling his neck.  “Oh, I think Gavin’s been _bad.”_

“I-I’ll make it up to you!” Gavin was nearly crying out with each thrust, fingers digging into Michael’s back, barely keeping his balance as he was rocked against the wall.  “I-I’ll be good, Jeremy, promise!”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Michael panted, hips working as though trying to fuck the words into Gavin. “Jeremy can just-- nnnh-- fuckin’ _use_ you and leave you begging. Just. Like. _This_.”

Jeremy could _see_ the moment Michael came, the tightening across his back and shoulders, the way Gavin shivered as he was filled.  He could hear the snarl that Michael muffled against Gavin’s neck.

Jack hummed softly and nuzzled Jeremy’s neck as he watched in awe.  “Looks like it’s your turn,” she whispered.

Michael let out a huff of satisfaction and slid out, letting Gavin’s leg drop. Without Michael’s arms to hold him up, Gavin slid down the wall, collapsing into a seated position. Hair a mess, hard cock leaking against his stomach, legs spread, Michael’s come dripping slowly out of him.

Jeremy’s dick gave an interested twitch. “F-fuck, that looks good.”

“Yeah, comeslut is a good look on him.” Michael knelt, lifting Gavin’s chin. Making him meet Jeremy’s hungry gaze. “What do you think, traitor? You up to apologizing to Jeremy, too?”

Gavin nodded, eyes hazy. Jeremy couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he crossed the room.  Gavin’s eyes slid down hungrily to Jeremy’s dick, then back up to his face as Jeremy stood over him.

“Looks like you’re all lubed up.”  Jeremy gripped Gavin’s chin, coaxing it up.  “But I’m not. Fix that.”

He could feel Gavin’s breath on his cock even before the first lick.  His dick twitched when Gavin’s lips pressed against it. _Fuck,_ it felt so _good_.  Warm and slick and hungry, Gavin’s eyes still locked on him as his mouth worked.  Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall, panting, as Gavin’s mouth slid down his shaft, pumping up and down.

“F-fuck…”

A noise from the screen pulled his gaze up.  In the hot tub, Geoff’s tattooed hand was still pressed between Ryan’s bare thighs, his other hand dragging the blade down Ryan’s chest.  Jeremy groaned and his hips jerked, drawing a muffled grunt from Gavin.

“Get up, Gav.”  He pulled back, letting Gavin gasp for air.  “C’mon, on your feet. We’ve got a show to watch.”

He tugged Gavin to his feet, steering him over to brace against the control panel, the screen filling his field of vision.  He could hear the arousal and exhaustion in Ryan’s labored breath, the heat and the fear and the blood loss taking a toll.

“There you go.” Jeremy gripped Gavin’s hips, leaning up to whisper into his ear. “Now, you’re just gonna stand here and watch the game while I fuck you. See what you helped Geoff do.”

“Nnnnh--”  Gavin’s hips wiggled, his gaze locked on the screen as Geoff’s knife trailed over Ryan’s shaking body.  “I-I-I didn’t think he’d win the whole game just because I--”

“What, just because you took all the suspicion off the real killer and turned the only remaining survivors against each other?”  Jeremy hissed the words into Gavin’s shoulder, reaching around to find his cock, giving it a squeeze that had Gavin wriggling. “What did you _think_ was gonna happen?”

From behind Jeremy, Jack tsked.  “Hey, careful where you aim him! Nobody better come on the fucking equipment.”

Jeremy sneered and bit Gavin’s shoulder.  “Hear that, Gav? Guess you can’t come.”

“Ha, as if he’ll be able to help it!”  Jack stepped into Jeremy’s field of vision, tearing into a small, shiny package. “Gimme just a second, Mr. Dooley.  Gotta use a little protection...”

She slipped a condom out of the package.  Reaching between Gavin’s shaking legs, she rolled the condom slowly down his cock, giving it a squeeze when she reached the base.  Gavin whined, squirming in Jeremy’s grip.

“There we go...just gotta make sure it’s on right…” Jack smiled as Gavin shivered under her hand.  She pumped him, testing the fit. “Feel all right there, Gav? Not too tight?”

Gavin shook his head. Jack stepped back with a grin.

“All right then, Jeremy; have at it!”

Jeremy grabbed the back of Gavin’s neck, forcing him to bend over more.  “With _pleasure_.”

God, that looked tantalizing.  Gavin was gasping for air, legs spread in invitation, looking nervously over his shoulder as Jeremy lined his cock up.  Ready to let Jeremy give him a good, hard revenge-fuck.

“Hey, Michael…”  Jeremy pressed his dick against Gavin’s hole.  “Thanks for loosening him up for me.”

Michael snickered, leaning on the wall so he could watch.  “You don’t usually get to shove right in, huh big guy? Must be a special treat.”

Jeremy bit his lip.  “Oh, you’d fuckin’ know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

He’d sure as shit _shoved right in_ when he ambushed Michael in his respawn pod.

Michael laughed.  “I’m _always_ a special treat.”

“Especially when you’re all loosened up from a fresh respawn.”

“You're welcome,” Jack sang. She rubbed her palm fondly over the machine. “You wanna know a secret? It's on purpose. I designed this baby to get you _all_ nice and ready when you wake up.”

“That's not a secret, Jack.  We all know what a perv you are.”

Jeremy’s hands tightened on Gavin’s hips and he _pulled_ them back, sliding that ass onto his cock in one motion, drawing a beautiful noise from Gavin.  

“Nnh, yeah, usually gotta prep this sweet ass first… but this time I can just _take_ him.”

Gavin was slick and open from the pounding Michael had given him; Jeremy barely had to push before he was seated to the base, fully sheathed in tight heat.  Fuck, _finally._ He’d been aching to sink his cock into someone since the game started.  A few more pumps to get his balance, and he was pounding into Gavin with the same ferocity that Michael had used, making him jolt against the control panel.  Fuck, the _noises_ Gavin made; unashamedly desperate, a wonderful overlay to the scene still playing out on the screen.

 _“Told you I was gonna come back for you, Ryan.”_ Geoff’s smile was sweet, his knife digging into Ryan’s chest.   _“Didn’t I promise that?”_

 _“Nnnh--”_ Ryan whined as the knife moved.   _“F-fuck--”_

 _“Must have been rough, huh?  Watching everyone run around thinking the killer was Jeremy when you knew it was me.”_ Geoff’s hand moved between Ryan’s legs.   _“And you couldn’t do anything but sit here, gagged and helpless, waiting for me to come back and finish you off… listening to me pick off the rest of them one by one.  Tell me, did it get you hard? Hearing them die?”_

 _“I-I --”_ Ryan whimpered. _“Nnnh y-yes--”_

Gavin’s head was starting to fall forward under Jeremy’s pounding thrusts. That wouldn’t do. Jeremy fisted a hand in Gavin’s hair, yanking his head back.

“Nuh-uh. Eyes on the screen.” He breathed the words against Gavin’s neck, punctuated with a harsh bite. “Look what you did.”

Gavin looked. Jeremy could _feel_ him looking, feel a sudden _squeeze_ as Geoff’s knife _cut_ into Ryan’s chest.  Fuck, Gavin must enjoy watching that.  He matched Ryan’s gasp of pain with a moan of pleasure, hips jolting beneath Jeremy’s hands, just a little; an unconscious plea for touch, for _more_.

 _“Awww, Ryan.  You’re shivering.”_ Geoff set his knife down and scooped his hands under Ryan’s ass, pulling him into the hot tub.   _“Why don’t you come in and get nice… and warm…”_

Ryan gasped, eyes widening and cuffed hands rattling as he sunk down, waist-deep in the crimson waters, with Geoff between his open legs.  From the way he moaned, the way he was seated in Geoff’s lap, Jeremy could tell he’d been pulled right down onto Geoff’s dick.

_“Mmmh, there you go… still nice and slick from the last time I used you, huh?”_

One of Gavin’s hands was no longer bracing himself against the control panel, drifting down to touch himself. Jeremy grabbed it, pressing it back into place.

“No. No touching.”

Gavin whined, hips wiggling under the thrusts, gaze locked on the screen.  Ryan was gasping as Geoff moved between his legs, and Gavin tensed with each cry.  

“J-Jeremy, Jeremy, please--”

“You wanna come, you gotta do it like this.” Jeremy yanked Gavin’s hair for emphasis. “On my cock. Watching Ryan die. Because of _you_.”

“ _Aaaah--_!”

Gavin hips jerked as he came, his body clenching hard around Jeremy’s cock, his loud cries echoing in the respawn room.

“Fuck--”  Jeremy pressed forward, pressing balls-deep, punching another cry out of Gavin.  “Fuck, you _like_ that.”

“Y-y- _yes!_ ” Gavin squirmed under the next thrust.  “A-ah, yes, _yes…”_

Jeremy slowed down gradually as Gavin gasped for air under him.  His cock twitched in protest, eager to keep pounding, but he held back the urge.  Gavin needed a moment. He stroked his hand gently up Gavin’s tense back, muscles slowly starting to relax under his touch.

“Shhh, there you go, Gav… You did so good…”

Gavin let out a dizzy moan.  “Oh my _looord_ that was… nnnh…”

“You feeling okay?”

“Bloody brilliant, Jeremy.”

“Hey.”  Jeremy leaned over and kissed Gavin’s shoulder.  “Sorry I told Geoff to kill you before you could get off.  Hope that made up for it?”

“D-damn well did.”  Gavin let out a long, content sigh.  “A-are you… gonna finish?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be here.  You need to tap out? Or you up for a little more?”

A little shudder ran through Gavin.  “M-more. Please. C-come in me, Jeremy.”

Jeremy nuzzled Gavin’s back.  “You sure?”

“Y-yes, I… nnnh…”  Gavin wiggled his hips back, and Jeremy sucked in a sharp breath at the warm heat sliding over him.  “I-I want… nnh, please…”

Michael chuckled.  “I know that look. He wants you to use him like a sex toy, Jeremy.  Just hump away while you watch the game, keep going till you fill him up.  Right, Gav?”

The words drew a choked moan from Gavin, made him squeeze _tighter_.  He nodded frantically, hands shaking against the control panel.

“...F-fuck,”  Jeremy grabbed Gavin’s hair, pressing his hips forward _hard._ “Why didn’t you say so, hm?  Spread your legs more.”

Gavin obeyed, pressing his ass back against Jeremy’s hips.  He yelped at the first deep thrust, then moaned as Jeremy fell back into a hard, deep rhythm, no token efforts to be gentle.  Oh fuck yes, that was _way_ better than holding still.  He could feel Gavin twitch each time he pressed deep, still shivery and stimulated from his climax.

It felt _fucking_ good to feel that helpless body skewered on his dick while he watched Ryan shudder under Geoff, watched Geoff’s tongue drag up Ryan’s neck, watched blood trickle down Ryan’s heaving chest...

Jack smiled as she watched.  “Aww, Gav. You make such a nice pillow for humping.”  

Gavin whined at the words, loud and broken.  Jack slipped closer to them, pressing up beside Jeremy for a moment.

“Scuse me, honey…”

She slipped a hand under Gavin’s hips.  A squeal slipped out of Gavin, his entire body going tense.

“Lemme just get this condom out of your way…”

Jeremy groaned, his grip tightening on Gavin’s hips.  He could almost picture Jack’s manicured hand dragging the condom down Gavin’s sensitive shaft, slow and squeezing…

Jack pressed a quick kiss to Jeremy’s cheek as she straightened up again.  “Don’t let me slow you down, honey.”

“Nnh, d-don’t worry, you won’t.”

Gavin gasped with each thrust.  His fingers curled against the metal, hands shaking under the relentless stimulation. They slid forward against the smooth surface, his hips pushing back in search of more-- and his knuckles bumped the mic button, broadcasting every sound in the respawn room directly into the earpieces of the two remaining players.

On screen, Jeremy could see Geoff pause, hips and knife both stilling. Ryan looked sleepily upwards, making eye contact with the spot he knew the camera must be.  The suddenly larger audience made Jeremy bite down on his own breath, but it couldn’t stop his hips. Not when Gavin felt so _good_ around his cock, tight and willing.  

Gavin was less successful at keeping quiet than Jeremy was.  He whined through his teeth with each needy thrust.

Geoff was the first to speak. _“...Oh, I hear nice noises.  Are the dead idiots fucking in the afterlife?”_

Jeremy couldn’t hold back a stifled groan.  “Nnh, y-yeah. Gavin’s giving me a -- nnh -- real good apology.”

“Woooo,” added Jack, wiggling her fingers. “A ghostly apology.”

_“Ooooh, better be careful, Jeremy. You know how possessive Michael can be.”_

“Pffff, Michael practically offered him to me on a silver platter.”  Now it was Jeremy’s turn to gloat. His movements were getting harder, sharper, drawing louder noises from Gavin.  “After that stunt Gavin pulled? We’re on the same page, he _owes_ me.  Of course… really, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s _yours,_ Geoff.  You’re the one who should be making it up to me.”

Gavin whined, pushing back against Jeremy’s hips. Begging for more.

Geoff smirked.   _“Heh, pity I won’t be waking up in a respawn pod this round, so you won’t get the chance for payback.  Not unless Ryan whips a gun out of his ass and shoots me with his cuffed hands.”_ Geoff grabbed Ryan’s hair, holding up his lolling head.  He smiled at the dizzy look Ryan gave him. _“And… mmm, I don’t think Ryan’s gonna be playing the game much longer.  And there’s not exactly room in your ass for anything else, is there?”_

Ryan made a weak noise when Geoff’s hips moved again.  Jeremy’s hands tightened on Gavin’s hips, his breath catching.

Geoff coaxed Ryan’s head to the side, leaning towards his neck and whispering in a soft singsong.   _“Geoff’s gonna win this round…”_

Ryan whined.  His voice was weak, sleepy, stumbling each time Geoff’s hips moved.   _“How m… much… longer are you gonna… f-fuckin’ brag about it?”_

_“Long as I want, baby.  Until your blood runs out.”_

“E-enjoy it while you can.”  Jeremy’s hips were jerking, short hard thrusts into Gavin, his gaze glued to the screen.  “I’m gonna -- nnhh -- get all the payback I need next time I get the knife.”

Gavin gasped audibly at the words, clenching tight around him. His obvious appreciation spurred Jeremy on, emboldening him.

“Tell me, Geoff,” Jeremy panted, “how do you like to die?”

For the first time, Geoff hesitated. He looked uncertain, not of the answer so much as the phrasing. When he spoke, the words were slower, more thoughtful.

_“I like to die… mercifully.”_

Jack hummed and leaned on Jeremy’s shoulder. “He likes _foreplay,_ ” she whispered. “He likes it if you _break_ him. Make him _beg_ for his mercy. Make him _mean_ it.”

“Nnnh--”  Jeremy’s dick twitched, his fingers digging into Gavin’s hips.  “F-fuck--”

_“You spilling all my secrets, Jack?”_

“Somebody has to, baby.”

 _“I’d better end this game before Jack gets me in trouble.”_ Geoff pulled on Ryan’s hair again, tilting his head back to expose his throat.  Ryan flinched as the knife lifted, nudging under his jaw. _“Smile for the camera, Ryan.  Jeremy’s about to get off on your death.  Again.”_

Jeremy’s breath caught.  “Ohfuck--”

The knife _slid_ across Ryan’s neck.

“Fuck!” Jeremy hadn’t been prepared for what the sight of that much blood was going to do to him. Hearing a death was one thing, but seeing it-- seeing the blood pouring across Geoff’s hand, his chest-- he’d known he was close, but--

He pressed his face against Gavin’s shoulder as a second wave of pleasure hit him. “Aaaaaaaaah fuck-- nnh--”

On screen, Geoff was making similar noises; pleasure-drenched gasps punctuated with softly-whispered curses. _“Mmh sh-shit that’s good--”_

As Jeremy caught his breath, Geoff slowly released his grip on Ryan’s limp body, laying him carefully back against the side of the hot tub. As though Ryan could still feel it. As though he’d appreciate the gentle touches.  There was no breath in Ryan’s chest, but Geoff still cupped his cheek and gave him a smile.

_“Heh… good boy, Ryan.”_

Jeremy shuddered again, his breath still labored.  Hands shaking, he straightened up, loosening his grip on Gavin’s hips.

“Okay… okay, fuck, that was… nnnnh, god damn, _Gavin…_ ”

Gently, he slid himself out, feeling Gavin shudder under him.  With two pairs of wobbling legs, it was a delicate arrangement to get them both to the floor, but Jeremy did it without taking his hands off Gavin’s shaking body.  He pulled Gavin back against him, pressing gentle kisses to the bruises he’d left on Gavin’s neck.

“F-fuck, Gavin, that was so good… you did _so_ fuckin’ good…”

“Damn.” Michael knelt on Gavin’s other side, reaching out to stroke a hand down the side of his face. “That was hot as fuck, Gav.”

Gavin looked up at him, grinning tiredly. “Y-yeah?  You forgive me, boy?”

“Yeah. You’re forgiven, you sexy bastard.”

“Just thought it might make the game interesting, you know?  We don’t usually have framings.”

“Heh, well, you made the game _damn_ interesting.”  Michael held out a hand, beaming when Gavin took it. “C’mon, let’s go get you cleaned up, ‘kay?”

Michael hauled Gavin to his feet, holding his waist when Gavin stumbled.  Gavin had a shaky smile on his face as he bumped his nose against Michael’s.

“The pair of you fucked my legs out from under me,” he giggled.

Michael kissed Gavin’s nose.  “Yeah, and you took it like a fuckin’ champ.”  He shot Jeremy a smile. “Hey. You wanna come shower?”

As Jeremy stood up, he heard the machine hiss behind him.  He turned in time to see a pod slide out.

“...Not this time, guys.”

“Gotcha.  Hey, tell Ryan he was great.”

“Will do.”

Jeremy crossed the room to the pod as it slid open.  He could hear the door hiss as Michael and Gavin left.  Jack was already on the other side of the pod, leaning over just as Ryan blinked his eyes open.

Jeremy smiled.  “Hey, buddy. Welcome back.”

Ryan stretched in his pod, yawned, and rubbed a hand over his hair.  “Damn. Killer Geoff, am I right?”

“Good morning, Ryan.” Jack grinned down at him. “How’s our favorite murder-proxy?”

Ryan chuckled.  “Mmm… you guys all saw that thing with Jeremy, huh?”

“Honey, ‘that thing’ was so hot it incited a small orgy. We’re saving that one for the spank bank.”

“Heh.  You’re welcome.”  Ryan paused. “...Hey, Jack?  Sorry I shot you.”

“It’s all right, honey.”

“You know what else I’m sorry about?  That you didn’t _let me out of the damn handcuffs at any fucking point in the game.”_

Jack laughed.  “And deny Geoff a finale like that?  Do you think I hate art?”

Ryan huffed scornfully, but there was no force behind it.

“Michael took Gavin for aftercare,” Jeremy explained.  “Jack is gonna go pick up Geoff, but if you need anything...”

“Oh?”  Ryan pushed himself upright, fixing Jeremy with his best ‘hope you’re into it’ smile. “Jack’s headed back to the yacht?  Maybe we should tag along.”

Jeremy frowned.  “...Well, I was talking about aftercare, but if you wanna help _clean up_ instead _…”_

“Well, I’m just thinking.” Ryan gave a shrug that did _not_ come off as innocent. “That hot tub. There’s...a lot of our blood in it now.  And you never did get to fuck me in it.”

“Oh.”  The words conjured a _vivid_ picture.  “Yeah, that’s, uh… we made a real mess of it, didn’t we?”

“So we should help clean it up.”

“Yup. Yeah. Sounds like a plan to me.”

“And, if we were to get it a little dirtier first…”

“Jesus Christ,” Jack interjected. “ _Yes_ ; you guys can come with me and fuck in the hot tub. It’s not like Geoff and I are gonna keep it in our pants, either. And speaking of pants…”  Jack held up a hand to whisper behind it. “If he asks, none of us remembered to bring him fresh clothes. Right? We forgot. Not because I wanna see him drag your corpses to the chopper wearing nothing but ink and a bowtie. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Seconded.”

Jack pulled away from the pod and strode back to the screen.  “Great. I’ll tell him the plan.”

Jeremy followed Jack back to the screen, followed closely by Ryan.  The sight it displayed made his heart skip. Geoff leaned against the edge of the hot tub, flanked by the pair of corpses that slumped on either side of him.  The bow tie that had gagged Ryan was back around his neck, but aside from that, he wore nothing but his ink. The water was damn near the color of wine, shimmering in the golden light of the lamps.

“Hi, honey.”  Jack spoke into the mic.  “How are you feeling?”

_“You know, Jack, I’m feeling incredible!  Jeremy was right, I really needed a break.”_

“Told you,” cut in Jeremy.

 _“Oh, hey, one question, guys…”_ Geoff spread his arms, smiling at the camera.   _“How do I look?”_

Jeremy swallowed.  “... L-like you won Murder.”

_“Damn fucking right I did.  You know, I’ve been sitting here in this gruesome hot tub staring at the stars, basking in my victory, and I think I’ve puzzled out how to break into that vault…”_

“Sounds great, baby. I’m gonna come help you wrap up, you can tell me all about it. Oh, and… don’t worry about the hot tub quite yet. We’ve got some volunteers to help clean it.”

_“...Volunteers, huh?”_

“See you there, honey!”  Jack clicked off the mic and turned to face Jeremy and Ryan.  “So, boys… great game!”

Jeremy pursed his brow.  “Sorry you missed...well, everything, Jack…”

“Oh, no worries.”  Jack waved off the apology.  “I’m sure I can corner Geoff somewhere private on the yacht. I might have a few words with him about how he got me killed.”

“...Good idea.”

“And by ‘words’ I mean my dick.”

“We know, Jack.”

  



	8. Player One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Brief dom-drop, quickly dispelled with healthy communication. Very brief mention of choking in a sexual context.

Rain smeared along the windows of the helicopter.  

The warehouse had become a familiar sight. Jeremy leaned against the window as it crept into view below them, a man-made bulk on the rocky landscape, barely visible through the sheets of rain.  It had been a while since he set foot inside those ruined concrete walls.

Something about it felt right. Returning to familiar turf.

Ryan sighed against the glass.  “Well. _That_ looks inviting.  Sure you don’t want a different map, Jeremy?”

Jeremy smiled at the view.  Thunder rumbled, and he settled back in his seat.  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’m just saying.  The caves would be _nice_ and cozy.”

Michael snorted.  “Don’t mind Ryan. He’s still jackin’ off to the fact that he got to be killer on his favorite map.”

Gavin kicked his leg playfully against Ryan’s.  “How’d that go for you, Ry?”

Ryan shot him a glare.  Gavin met it with a cheeky grin, tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth.

“Settle down, everyone.”  Geoff crossed his arms. “Jeremy got to pick the map, and he wanted to go back to the warehouse.”  He cast a dark scowl at the sky. “Besides, the fuckin’ weather makes half our maps unusable anyway.”

Jack huffed from the pilot’s seat.  “No one liked my idea of a white tank top dress code and an outdoor map.”

“So tell me, lil’ J.”  Michael nudged Jeremy. “Why’d you pick the warehouse?”

“Cause I'm tired of you assholes having a terrain advantage.” Jeremy’s desire to see all the maps-- to experience each way the game could be played-- was being steadily outstripped by his desire to _win_ it.  “I want a map that I know.  I want a shot at winning.”

“Shot, huh?  Watch your choice of words.”

Jeremy snorted, but didn’t reply.  His gaze drifted down to the cramped leg space between the five of them, where the boxes waited in a neat stack.  Simple, metal, familiar, and holding tight to their mysteries. Jeremy looked them over, as though he could see through the walls to the contents inside. On an impulse, he reached out and took the one on top, weighing it in his hands.

Gavin laughed at the sight. “Keen to start, Jeremy?”

The box was heavy for its size, but that didn't mean anything. Jeremy knew that the empty boxes were weighted to be indistinguishable from those with weapons. There was no rattling, but that didn't mean anything either. Weapons would be strapped down.

“Yeah,” he said at last. He sat the box on his knees. “I'm feeling lucky.”

\----

Jack swung the helicopter as close to the warehouse as she could, but Jeremy still had to make a dash through the rain once he hopped out.  Thunder boomed, louder than the harsh chop of the helicopter blades, as he raced towards the monolith of crumbling concrete.

The rain fell away as he stepped through the door.  Jeremy wiped drops off his face. He leaned against the door frame, just out of the storm, clutching his box as the helicopter droned away through sheets of rain.  His gaze fell to his shoes. His feet were just inside the threshold, leaving wet shoe prints on the dry concrete.  

He had taken his first steps into the warehouse.  He was unlikely to walk back out.

Jeremy’s focus shifted to his box.  The scuffed metal dimly reflected his own shadow.  Raindrops beaded over it, hitchhikers from his dash through the storm.  Jeremy smeared his fingers through the chill drops of water. Inches below his fingertips, there was either a gun, a knife, or empty air.  

His neck prickled when he heard Jack’s voice.

_“Okay, we’re in place.  Let’s play Murder, boys!”_

Jeremy took a deep breath and flipped his box open.  

For a moment, he didn’t understand what he was seeing.  A metallic shine, but not a gun. Longer and thinner, a more delicate tool, perfect for sliding between ribs.  Jeremy’s heart thumped as he wrapped his fingers around the handle, slowly lifting the knife from the box. The blade glinted in the dim, stormy light.  How many times had that dutifully-sharpened edge been the last thing he’d seen? 

How many times had he died under this knife?

Jeremy realized he was grinning. Rather than sending fear lancing through him, the knife was a solid comfort in his hand.  _His_ knife.  Which meant this was _his_ game. 

Ryan got to be the killer on his favorite map. And now, so did Jeremy.

_“I’m innocent!”_

Gavin’s voice made Jeremy jolt.  He flipped the knife closed and crammed it into his pocket, as though someone might catch him red-handed at any moment.  His heart was pounding with an entirely new type of fear.  

Fuck, he had to kill all _five_ of them without being discovered.  And he had to do it fast.

_“This is a public service announcement, Jack is innocent!”_

_“Sure you are, Jack.”_

_“Yeah, Michael?  C’mere and let me introduce you to my gun.”_

_“...Okay, fair enough, Jack is innocent.”_

_“Cracking open my box aaaaaaand I am innocent!”_

_“You say that every time, Geoff.”_

Ryan chuckled.  _“And five times out of six, it’s true!”_

_“Believe what you like, I’m not the killer!”_

_“Hey, guys?”_

_“Yeah Michael?”_

_“I bet it’s Geoff.”_

Geoff groaned over the com as voices laughed.  _“For fuck’s sake, it was me last round, it’s not gonna be me twice!”_

_“C’mon, Geoff, we all know that doesn’t mean shit.”_

Jeremy took a breath and hoped his voice sounded casual.  “It’s totally Geoff.”

_“See?  Lil’ J gets it.”_

_“Shut up.”_

Letting out his breath slowly, Jeremy turned away from the rainy world outside and strode into the darkness of the warehouse.  The rain grew more muffled as concrete closed around him. Adrenaline was already humming in his fingertips.

The game had started.  He had to get moving.

The doorway opened into a massive storage room packed with rusted old shelves, towering like steel trees.  Jeremy stared up at the high ceiling as though he was in another world. Normally, he would start looking for gun parts, but now… he didn’t need gun parts.  What he needed was another player, alone, and unaware of his presence. This was an entirely different game.

 _“Got my first gun part,”_ announced Michael.  _“Look out, killer.”_

Jeremy’s stomach dropped.  Already? He hadn’t even _seen_ someone yet.

“Uh-- me too.”  He bit his tongue as soon as the words left his mouth.  _Fuck._

_“That’s a grip for me.  Anyone else?”_

_“Nope.”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Hey, Jeremy, what’d you get?”_

“U-uh--”  Jeremy’s tongue felt too big for his mouth.  “It uhh it’s a-- bullarrel. Barrel. I got a barrel.” 

 _“Heh, little jumpy there, J.”_ Michael’s voice had a smug edge to it.  _“What’s wrong?  You get something fun in your toy box?”_

Jeremy’s heart skittered straight up his throat.  “N-no! I-I’m just-- I--”

_“Wow.  I take it back, Geoff, I don’t think you’re the killer anymore.”_

_“Pff.  We’ll see how long that lasts.”_

“Nervous!” Jeremy blurted.  He swallowed. “I-I just… wanna win.  And I’ve actually got a fuckin’ shot at it this time, since I know the map.  You know, I’m not just… just wandering around waiting to die anymore.”

_“Oh, sure… especially if you’re wandering around waiting to kill.”_

Ryan snorted.  _“You know, I’m starting to think that_ you _might be the killer, Michael.  You’ve done nothing but throw around accusations since the match started.”_

_“Hey, I’m just calling ‘em like I see ‘em.”_

Jeremy let out a long breath as the voices dissolved into playful bickering.  Fuck, how did anyone keep this up for a full game? His heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest.

“Well well well.  If it isn’t lil’ J.”  

Jeremy spun around, his hand almost jumping to the knife.  Standing in the ruined hall, half-illuminated by the dusky light, was Geoff.

 _Just_ Geoff.  No one else.

Jeremy’s heart hammered, his hand nearly drifting towards his knife again.  This was it, an isolated target. He could grab Geoff now, slit his throat before he had the chance to escape, and pray to god that Geoff was too surprised to scream.  But if Geoff _did_ scream...

It was a risk.  But _not_ killing Geoff was a risk too.  Every second he waited was another second for the survivors to find gun parts.

Geoff’s smile was far too laid-back for a man alone with a killer.  “How’s it going, buddy?”

Jeremy looked him up and down.  Lean limbs, wry smirk, tattoos poking out under his shirt sleeves.  With the weight of a knife in Jeremy’s pocket, Geoff’s familiar body looked different.  All he could see were places to _cut._

“...Going great,” he grunted.  “So long as you stay out of stab range.  I wasn’t joking about thinking you’re the killer.”

Ignoring him, Geoff strolled closer.  “Hey, I heard there was someone you really wanted to get payback on.  Get any yet?”

Jeremy's hand twitched, desperate for his knife.  “Oh, give it time, Geoff. I’ll get all the payback I need.”

Geoff’s fingers lifted, middle and index pressing lightly against his throat like a blade.  “...Wanna get some right now?” He trailed his fingers up his jaw and tapped them lightly against the com in his ear.  “...While the whole crew’s listening?”

Michael chuckled over the com.  _“You’re a real dick, Geoff.”_

Geoff was close enough to grab.  To slam against the wall. To _kill._ Jeremy’s chest heaved as the word pounded in his mind, hot and hungry, _kill kill kill kill kill._

“...Unless you _can’t._ ”  Geoff breathed the words with a venom that didn’t match his smile.  “No knife this round, buddy? Aww, that’s a shame. Or, if you’ve got one...”  He took a step closer. “You don’t have the balls to _use_ it--”

Jeremy slapped his hand over Geoff’s mouth, shoving the knife _hard_ against his neck and slamming him into the wall.  Geoff’s scream was muffled by Jeremy’s palm. Jeremy’s heart pounded in his throat, his breath heavy, the knife wobbling on Geoff’s neck as Geoff stared at him with wide eyes.

Fuck, this was it.  He had his first victim trembling in his grip, helpless at knifepoint.  One quick slice. That was all he had to do. One quick, hot, messy slice…

_“...Uh, did Geoff just go quiet?”_

_“Holy shit, did Jeremy kill Geoff?”_

Jeremy chewed his lip, scraping the knife slowly down Geoff’s throat, watching him tremble.  Fuck fuck fuck, he should have let Geoff go, shouldn’t have pulled the knife out. Too many people were listening.  If he wanted to stand even a chance of getting through this game without a bullet in his skull, he had to move fast.  Had to…

Fuck, he had to kill Geoff _now._

The knife shimmered in the dim light, Geoff’s breath racing beneath it.  Quick and clean. Efficient. He could do this. Slit Geoff, move on to the next victim.  Fuck, it felt so good to see that smirk wiped off Geoff’s face, replaced with terror… 

_“Jeremy, is it you?  Are you the killer?”_

He… he didn’t want to kill Geoff quickly.  He wanted to kill Geoff _slowly._ And he wanted the whole crew to hear it.  He’d already fucked up and implicated himself, he didn’t want to hide.  If this was going to be his only kill, he wanted it to be a _good_ one.

“Go on, Geoff.”  Jeremy’s voice was low.  “Tell them who’s got you.”

He slipped his hand off Geoff’s mouth, leaving the knife at his neck.  For a moment, Geoff didn’t seem to know what to do with his voice. He clearly wasn’t expecting to ever breathe another word in this game.

“It’s-- i-it’s Jeremy!”  Geoff’s voice was shaking when he finally found it, already broken. “J-Jeremy’s the killer and he’s got me and I-I’m gonna die!”

Jeremy could hear more than one sharp inhale through the com.  A rush of excitement purred down his spine, so intense that the knife jittered against Geoff’s throat.  Fuck, that was the sound of fear, invoked by his name.

“Nnnh, yeah, that’s right.” Jeremy pressed harder against Geoff, pinning him helplessly against the wall. Geoff’s body was rigid, tense, and yet unresisting. Amazing what a knife at the throat could do. “I’m the killer. I’ve got Geoff, and he can die as loudly as he likes.” He nudged the knife against Geoff’s chin, tilting his head back. “Think I’d like a noisy victim, actually.”

 _“Jeremy’s the killer?”_ Jack gasped in excitement. _“H-holy shit, Jeremy’s the killer!  Yes!”_

Michael whooped.  _“Eyyyy our little murder virgin’s finally gonna get some!  If he fuckin’ can, that is!”_

Jeremy snickered at Geoff’s whimper.  “Oh, I think I’m gonna get some right now.  What do you think, Geoff?” Jeremy pressed his knee between Geoff’s legs, coaxing himself between them, feeling Geoff tense against him.  “Weren’t you just asking if I wanted to _get some_?”

 _“Jack!”_ Gavin sounded nervous.  _“Y-you’ve got this handled, right?  I can stay by you and you’ll keep Jeremy away?  Wave that nice shiny gun around, protect your lil friend Gavvy?”_

_“What, you want me to shoot Jeremy?  When he’s finally the killer? I wouldn’t dream of it!”_

_“A-are you having a bloody laugh?”_

Ryan’s voice was almost a squeak.  _“What the fuck does that mean, Jack?”_

_“It means I’ll be a good girl for our big mean killer.  I’ve been waiting soooo long to see how he kills me. You hear that, honey?  You take your time, I’ll be waiting right here to be your big finale.”_

The words stirred something in Jeremy’s chest.  A smile was overtaking his face. “Jack, I don’t trust you.  But if this isn’t a trap, then it’s _fucking_ hot.”

“J-Jack, seriously?” Geoff stammered weakly.  “Y-you’re not even gonna avenge me?”

_“Shhh, be good for him, babe.  Love you.”_

“Hear that, Geoff?”  Jeremy stroked the knife gently down Geoff’s cheek, flat of the blade soothing over skin like a gentle finger.  “We’re in no rush.”

 _“Piss!”_ Gavin’s voice was frantic.  _“I don’t have a sodding part!  The game’s only been on for a damn minute!”_

Michael’s breath was quick, clearly running.  _“Geoff, I’ll do my fuckin’ best to shoot Jeremy, but I’ve gotta level with you; I’m not gonna get a gun in time to save you.  Sorry, buddy.”_

“You know how you killed me slow, Geoff?”  Jeremy’s breath was getting heavy. Geoff flinched as the knife pricked under his ear.  “I think I might kill you slow.” 

Ryan sounded almost panicked.  _“Shit, Jack, give me the fucking gun if you’re not gonna do it!”_  

Jack hummed.  _“Mmmm, you sure about that, Ryan?  You know it’s against the rules to take an un-fired gun from a live person.  But by all means, I’d love to see you in a collar next round.”_

_“I… fuck… ”_

“Where should I start?”  Jeremy trailed the knife down to Geoff’s shirt, flicking at the top button. “Everyone goes for the chest, but… there are so _many_ parts of you I could cut.”

“J-Jeremy--” Geoff’s voice was abrupt, words quick as though he couldn’t hold them back. The knife trailed in a slow circle around his shirt button.  “Jeremy, please--”

Jeremy flicked his knife against the button, a click of steel against plastic, before letting the knife slide back up to Geoff’s neck.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

Geoff hurried to obey, swallowing visibly as Jeremy rotated the knife, sharp prickle of the tip making the words an undeniable command. 

“S-sure thing, buddy, shirt comin’ right off, I-I can behave…”

His tattooed fingers stumbled over the buttons, undoing them one by one.  Jeremy’s blade followed the motions, tracing the path of skin revealed as Geoff undid the buttons.

“Man.  Look at all that ink.”  He traced a line, following it from sternum to shoulder, casually pushing Geoff’s shirt aside with the flat of the blade. “Did it hurt?  Getting all those pretty pictures?”

The fear in Geoff’s eyes was beautiful. “Y-yes… ”

“But you _liked_ it, didn’t you?  So you won’t mind if I just…”

He danced the knife across the largest portion of the design, moving it in a wide swoop. Geoff winced in anticipation of pain, eyes closing. Jeremy waited, blade to skin, until he’d opened them. Watching as he registered the absence of injury, relaxed back into wary unease.

“No, I don’t like this one. Too complicated.”  Jeremy flicked his knife up again, twirling it idly between his fingers.  “Roll up your sleeves.”

“J-Jeremy, please-- just--”

“Hush.” He tapped the knife against Geoff’s lips, silencing him as effectively as a hand across his mouth.  “Show me those beautiful arms.”

Geoff couldn’t hold back a whimper, fingers trembling as he pushed up his shirtsleeves. Jeremy took a moment to appreciate the sight, knife still held against Geoff’s mouth like a finger.

Over the com, Ryan whined.  _“P-please tell me someone’s getting close to a gun…”_

_“I ain’t got shit.  You, Gav?”_

_“W-well, I’ve got a barrel?”_

_“We’re so fucked.”_

Jeremy smirked as he trailed the knife along Geoff’s jaw.  “What’s wrong, Ryan? Not looking forward to your turn?”

_“Sh-shit…”_

“You know, I’m feeling good about the arms,” Jeremy mused, letting his gaze drag over Geoff.  “They’re an underrated body part, as far as torture goes.” He tapped the blade twice against Geoff’s bottom lip, enjoying the way he flinched. “Kiss for good luck?”

For a moment, Geoff didn’t move. Then he leaned forward slightly, eyes never leaving Jeremy’s face, and pressed his lips chastely against the flat of the blade.

“Mmmh, there you go, baby.” Jeremy lifted the knife away, moving down to focus on the newly-exposed skin. “I’m feeling lucky now.”

His knife explored Geoff’s bicep, sliding lightly along thick, black linework. “This wouldn’t be too bad, now would it?” He mused, knife skipping from line to line. “Somebody already hurt you here. The tattoo is like...practice.”

Geoff whimpered, eyes sliding closed again, body bracing for pain. Assuming Jeremy had found his spot. 

Jeremy marked it with his finger, lifting the knife up to tap against Geoff’s nose. “Here. Lick this for me.”

Those beautifully frightened eyes fluttered open in surprise, nearly crossing as Geoff attempted to keep the blade in his sight. “Wh- what?”

“Lick.” Jeremy moved the knife lower, following the outline of Geoff’s lips. “Gonna slide it inside you. Don’t you want it to go easy?”

“F-fuck, Jeremy--”

“Go on.” His voice was a hushed whisper, dangerous and seductive. “Just a little lick. No tricks. I won’t cut you. I promise.”

Slowly, as though caution could save him, Geoff ran his tongue along the flat of the blade. He exhaled audibly when it was moved away, mouth unharmed. 

“You’re not worried, are you?” Jeremy’s tone was conversational as he aligned his knife with the spot he’d chosen. “Why would you be?  This is familiar territory for you. You’ve been hurt here before, when you got this tat. I can’t _really_ hurt you, can I?”

He watched, pleased, as Geoff shivered at the words. He pressed, just a little, just enough to dent the skin, before abruptly lifting the blade away.

“No, not that one. Have to use your other arm.”

“Christ, J-Jeremy--”

“Sssh.” He traced fingers and blade across Geoff’s skin, savoring the way he shook. “I’m still new to being a killer. I need to… take my time.”

 _“There’s a good lad, Jeremy!”_ Gavin’s voice didn’t sound as confident as his words.  _“Have a lovely little murder with Geoff, take all the time you need!”_

“Sh-shut _up,_ Gavin,” Geoff said through his teeth.

Jeremy sighed, tracing his finger along the line of a tattoo.  “No… none of these are _speaking_ to me. I can’t just cut you _anywhere_ , Geoff. Not with all this beautiful artwork.” He let his gaze roll down Geoff’s body in a blatant, dangerous eyefuck. “Remind me; where else do you have ink?”

“Ah-- e-everywhere--”

“Show me.” He traced the knife lightly along Geoff’s tense stomach, following the line of his waistband. “Show me ‘everywhere,’ Geoff.”

“N-no, please!”  Geoff’s voice was starting to crack.  “Please, just-- just c- _cut_ me already!  I’ll be good, just-- p-pick a spot, please--!”

“Hmm.” Jeremy couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across his face at the words. “Okay.” He reached up, fisting a hand in Geoff’s hair. Tilting his head back. “I choose _here_.”

The knife _ripped_ across Geoff’s throat, splattering Jeremy in blood. 

The rush hit him like a thunderclap.  Familiar heat flowed across his hand, the cascading warmth of blood, rapid heartbeat draining away the last few pumps of life… but this time, there was no answering chill beneath Jeremy’s skin.  No shivering, no adrenaline spiking helplessly through him, too late to do any good.

This time, he watched from the outside as the life drained from Geoff.  When his grip loosened, Geoff crumpled to the floor.

Jeremy’s heart thumped in his ears, louder than the rain.  A pool of blood spread slowly across the floor. Jeremy neck tingled, a phantom line drawn across his throat, a memory.  He touched it, slick fingers exploring his own unbroken skin. 

The first death of the game.  And it was at his own hands.

_“H-holy shit… is Geoff…?”_

“He’s… he’s not here anymore.” Jeremy’s voice sounded strange. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Geoff’s done playing.”

Gasps and curses trickled through the com. Good sounds. He liked those sounds. But he… they… a shiver was humming in his fingertips, and staring at Geoff’s still body was starting to feel strange.  Unreal.  

Jeremy pulled his gaze away harshly, trembling hand lifting to his com.  His fingers slipped on the plastic, wet with-- blood. Right. Geoff’s blood.  Because he’d just…

“G-Geoff?”  Jeremy’s voice was soft, as though he could speak only to Geoff if only he hushed his voice.  “Uh… ghost Geoff? You awake yet?”

For a moment, nothing.  Jeremy swallowed.

“I-it would be real cool to hear your voice--”

_“Wooooo, this is ghost Geoff...  Regret has kept me tied to the mortal plane… I regret talking shit to Jeremy Dooley…”_

A smile broke across Jeremy’s face.  He laughed softly, fingers stilling against the com, as though to pull the voice closer.

“Hey, boss.  How you feeling?”

_“Feeling proud of my newest killer.”_

“Yeah?  You liked it?  Would you say… more or less than your other killers?”

Geoff’s chuckle was warm.  _“You did great, champ.  Now get your ass in gear, those other survivors aren’t gonna wait around for you to kill them.  Well, I guess Jack will.”_

“Heh.  Make sure you’re watching when I kill her.”

_“Oh, I will be.  Ghost Geoff out.”_

Tightening his grip on the bloody knife, Jeremy strode away, leaving Geoff’s still body on the floor.  A heady rush still thumped in his chest. Somewhere in this concrete maze, more prey was waiting.

God, he was hungry for it.

Jack’s voice was breathy over the com.  _“What was he like, Geoff?  How did it feel, dying under that inexperienced blade?  Was he shaky? Excited? Was he a natural at it?”_

 _“Hey!”_ Micheal snapped. _“The dead don’t talk!  No necromancy!”_

Jeremy frowned as he stepped into a new room.  Michael had been silent while Jeremy talked to Geoff; the rule, evidently, could be broken for cases of emotional comfort.  Michael didn’t seem inclined to make a second exception for Jack’s boner.

 _“I bet Jeremy was hard.”_ Jack sighed wistfully. _“Like a teenager making out for the first time.”_

Jeremy smiled as he walked between dusty stacks of boxes.  “You’re damn right I was hard.” 

_“Want me to help you with that, baby?”_

_“Jack’s trying to suck her way out of getting slit!”_ Gavin accused.

 _“Excuse you, I’m trying to suck my way_ into _getting slit.”_

“And it’ll work,” Jeremy assured her.

Something square and metal snagged Jeremy’s view.  His gaze was tugged to the side by the sight of a small metal box, sitting innocently on a tarnished metal table.  He slowed to a stop in front of it. It felt strange to not _need_ to open it.  It was probably best to keep moving, but then again… every gun part in his pocket was a gun part _not_ in the survivors’ hands.

The soft sound of footsteps pushed the box from his mind.  Jeremy’s gaze snapped up. Someone was running down the hall towards him.  Running from what, though? The only thing in this warehouse worth running from was Jeremy.

… Unless they were running _towards_ something.

Jeremy’s gaze snapped back to the box.  He wasn’t the only one who knew this map.  Whoever was coming must be after this. Jeremy darted into a supply closet across from the box and pressed himself around the corner.

The footsteps slowed to a stop.  Holding his breath and praying that the box had grabbed the other person’s attention, Jeremy peered outside.

He recognized that figure, even from behind.  …Especially from behind.  

“Coming up on gun part number three,” announced Michael as he picked up the box. “Hey, Ryan, you still think I’m the killer?”

_“Look, you were being real suspicious.”_

Jeremy crept out of the closet slowly, taking care to keep his steps silent.  Michael gave no indication that he knew Jeremy was there; no awareness that he was being hunted.  He was focused on the box, flicking open the switch as Jeremy approached.

A knife in the back would do just as well as a knife in the front… but he wanted to see Michael’s face.  He wanted Michael to see the knife. Jeremy bit his lip and crept closer until he could grab Michael’s shoulder.

“Hey babe, you die here often?”

Michael’s fist crunched into Jeremy’s jaw, sending him reeling.  

The force of the blow almost knocked Jeremy off his feet.  He spat a curse along with a glob of blood. His lip had split open against his teeth, throbbing.  Fuck, he didn’t know the survivors were allowed to _fight back._

Michael’s fists were raised, his breath rapid, but he didn’t run.  He was smiling as he stood in the hall and stared down the killer.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, lil’ J?  C’mon, I’m waiting!”

Jeremy rubbed the sting out of his jaw, a smile starting to grow over the bruise.  Shit, he could feel the imprint of Michael’s knuckles.  

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t play nice.”

 _“Michael!”_ Gavin’s voice was a squeak.  _“Michael, get out of there!”_

When Michael’s fist swung, Jeremy’s knife was ready.  Before Michael’s fist could reach him, his blade met Michael’s arm.  The slash knocked his blow aside and drew a strangled curse.

“Shit shit shit shit—“  Michael’s breath was labored, his fingers gripping his bleeding arm with white knuckles.  “Fffffffuck, yeah okay th-that’s about how sharp I remember that knife being—“

“Aww, does it hurt?” Jeremy grinned, the sound of Michael’s breathing answer enough.  “C’mere, baby. I’ll make it nice and easy.”

“F-fuck that!”

“Heh.” Jeremy slid his thumb along the flat of the blade as he followed Michael’s shaky retreat.  Blood smeared under his touch, hot and fresh. “Can’t say I didn’t offer.”

Jeremy’s arm moved first this time.  Michael’s block was clumsy, his arm barely rising in time to take the blow.  He hissed in pain and almost crumpled, staggering back. No danger of countering blows landing now; Michael could barely stumble, only able to put a few feet between himself and his killer.  He choked when Jeremy grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him against a wall.

“Hhhn—“ Michael winced as Jeremy lifted the knife.  “F-fuck—“

“Hey, Michael.”  Jeremy flipped the knife in his hand, blade pointing down.  “Remember when you wanted to see if I could get my knife wet?”

He plunged the knife hilt-deep into Michael’s chest.

A chill shot down his spine at the choked, startled noise that Michael let out.  Jeremy groaned, pressing the knife in as deep as he could, grinding the hilt against Michael’s chest.  There was _resistance_ against his blade this time, not like the butter-smooth slide across Geoff’s throat.  Jeremy couldn’t help it, he rolled his hips against Michael’s slumping body, panting in the space between them.  When he ripped his knife out, he could feel it scrape against bone.

Michael crumpled at Jeremy’s feet.  He caught his breath as he stared down at it, the knife shaking in his hand.  Michael’s body looked peaceful, at odds with the desperate way he’d fought for his life. It made Jeremy feel peaceful, too. 

Well. Calmer, at least.  A strange sort of zen was settling over him.  Absently, he lifted his knife, watching the shimmer of blood on the blade.  

Gavin’s voice was the first sound to break the dusty, rainy silence. 

_“...M-Michael?”_

“Ah... sorry Gav.” A distant smile was creeping onto Jeremy’s face, sliding into his voice as he stepped over Michael’s body.  “He didn’t make it.”

 _“We’re on our own, Gavin.”_ Ryan’s voice was steady, but Jeremy could hear the fear behind it.  _“Just keep pickin’ up those gun parts, we can still do this.”_

_“Y-yeah?  How many parts you got?”_

_“I’ve got…”_ Ryan trailed off.  _“I’ve got a few, just keep looking, okay?”_

_“...You haven’t got squat, have you?”_

_“I-I’ve got one!  That’s more than zero!”_

Absently, Jeremy tossed his knife and caught it by the hilt as he strolled.  “Cheer up, Ryan. Maybe you can _throw_ it at me.”

_“Oh shut up!”_

Gavin gasped with joy over the com.  _“Got a bullet!  Ryan, I’m close!”_

Jeremy froze.  He held his breath, listening carefully.  Over the distant drum of the rain, he swore he heard something.  Gavin’s voice, outside of the com, echoing off the concrete walls.

Another victim, nearby.

 _“Close?”_ Ryan pressed.  _“How close?”_

_“Think I just need-- yes, just need a magazine!”_

The telltale echo of Gavin’s voice was coming from Jeremy’s left.  Silently, Jeremy turned and followed the sound.

_“Gavin, I’ve got a magazine!  I am more than happy to give it to you!”_

_“Y-yeah?  Ahh Ryan I could kiss you!”_

_“Don’t say where you are.  Just… be careful and we’ll find each other.”_

The ground was littered with rubble.  Jeremy picked his way through the crumbled concrete and scrap metal as he stalked after the voice, keeping his breath quiet.  The soft hammer of rain masked the sound of his footsteps. No noise to alert his prey. His knife felt good in his hand, solid and balanced and dripping from his last kill.

Two kills down, but his knife was still hungry.

As he rounded the next corner, Jeremy could see Gavin down the hall.  His back was to Jeremy, his strides calm as he walked away through a gaping storage room.  The roof was pockmarked with holes, rain pouring down into grimey puddles. Gavin’s nice shoes neatly avoided the dampness.

 _“Gavin.”_ Jack’s voice was sweet over the com, but Jeremy could hear danger in it. _“Just letting you know, I will not be pleased if you shoot Jeremy before he can kill me.”_

Jeremy held his breath and followed Gavin’s footsteps.  The rain was louder here, a steady rush through the holes in the roof.  It covered up the noise of his footsteps.

“Better get your boytoy to slit you quick, then, Jackie.”  Gavin’s voice was bright and clear. “I think he’s running out of--”

Jeremy’s foot crunched on a piece of rubble.

Gavin spun around, hope flashing across his face.  “Ryan--!”

He froze.  He took a slow, shaking step back as Jeremy’s grip tightened on his knife.

“Y-you’re… not Ryan…”

Jeremy lunged and Gavin bolted.  Concrete pounded under his feet as they raced through the ruined halls.  Gavin was mere paces in front of him, running for his life, yelping in alarm between each breath.

Damn.  His ass looked good when he was running.

Ryan’s sharp breath was pure panic.  _“G-Gavin?”_

“H-h-he’s found me!”  Gavin’s voice was shrill and breathless.  “Ryan Ryan he’s found me, get a gun get a gun!”

_“Y-you’re the one with the gun parts!”_

“It’s not enough, I can’t--”

Gavin’s foot slipped in a puddle.

He hit the ground with a loud british curse, and Jeremy slammed into him a heartbeat later.  He barked a laugh, his breath still heavy from the run, fisting his hand in Gavin’s hair.

“Guess what I just caught!”

Roughly, he flipped Gavin over.  He was completely unprepared for the _smile_ that split Gavin’s bloodied face.  He reeled back, sitting down hard on Gavin’s hips.

“Oh _shit--_ ”

“Ahhh, guess you caught me.”  Gavin turned away momentarily to spit blood, but it didn’t interrupt his smile. “Gonna slice me to ribbons, Jeremy? Do your boyfriend proud?”

Ryan’s voice shook over the mic.  _“Fuck, Gav, did he get you?”_

“Oh, yeah, I’m right buggered, Ryan,” Gavin laughed.  “Good luck on your own!”

 _“Oh, does he have his ‘certain death’ face on?”_ Jack’s voice was in Jeremy’s ear, sounding like she was recalling a fond memory. _“Fucking deranged, isn’t it? Figure you can’t fuck your way out of this one, Gav?”_

“Nahhhh, Jeremy’s not gonna fuck me.” Gavin shifted under him, a teasing press of what he knew Jeremy wasn’t going to take. “Not much thrill there, he knows I’d give it up if he asked.  Nah, he’s gonna slit me, gonna make a bloody mess of me.”

Jeremy’s breath was heavy as he pressed the knife under Gavin’s jaw.  “Am I, huh?”

“Yeah, you are.”  

Gavin’s gaze roamed over his face, open and assessing. Fearless. He lifted a hand towards Jeremy's face. It would have been a simple matter to grab his wrist, slam it back to the concrete-- to force it back with his blade, a stronger command-- but Jeremy let Gavin’s hand lift.  Let it touch his face. 

There was something burning in Gavin's eyes, but it wasn't fight. Jeremy wanted to see what it was.

Gavin's fingertips trailed reverently over the darkening bruise on his jaw. With careful, hungry touches, he explored the broken skin where Michael’s knuckles had sliced flesh against teeth. Gavin let out a longing sigh, painting a smear of red from Jeremy's lip down his chin.

“Ooooooh, _Michael.”_ He rolled his hips again, a slow grind against Jeremy’s ass. “Good job, boy.  Gonna blow you in the afterlife for that one.”

Gavin’s fingers pressed the bruise on his jaw, the cut on his lip, greedily stealing a little taste of torture.  A forbidden mouthful of the feast reserved only for the killer. Jeremy panted as pain pulsed under Gavin's touch. He didn't push the fingers away.

“Michael fought back.” His lips moved under Gavin's touch, smearing blood. "He didn't make it easy. I didn't get to-- nhh-- _play."_

Gavin’s roaming hands were sending shivers through him, making him want to touch _back_. Press deep into Gavin’s skin with his fingers. His blade.

“Mmmh, no, he wouldn’t. Can’t let anyone do him gently, our Michael."

"Not like you, huh?" In a sudden twitch, Jeremy grabbed Gavin by the wrist, stopping his exploring fingers.  He slammed Gavin’s hand down on the damp concrete. " _You're_ gonna let me play."

Gavin's hips jerked as Jeremy grabbed his hair, twisting into it, pulling Gavin's head back to expose his throat.

"Ooooh yeah, I'll let you play!"

The urge to _take_ was growing.  Jeremy pressed his knife to Gavin’s vulnerable neck, a little too hard, a streak of red beginning to seep along the edge...

"How do _you_ like to die, Gavin?”

Gavin laughed. High and crazed, deep in his chest, as though he needed to draw Jeremy’s attention to his body. As though Jeremy wasn’t already painfully, burningly aware of the warm blood pumping just beneath his skin. 

“ _Violently_! Kill me violently, Jeremy, tear me apart!”

The knife sliced, too shallow to kill, opening up a hot red gash.  Gavin’s scream trailed off into hysterical laughter. 

“Oh, that’s it, Jeremy, that’s it! Hurt me! _Wound_ me!”

“You want more?”

“Bleed me! Make me bleed, I-- I want to--”

The second gash was _deep._

Jeremy caught his breath.  Gavin didn’t speak, didn’t move.  The force of Jeremy’s slice had splattered blood across his own face.  It was disorienting, almost, to see Gavin so quiet. So still. Body limp, no longer tight with manic energy.  His blood was seeping into a puddle of rainwater, curling in dark crimson swirls.

 _“...G-Gavin?”_ Ryan’s voice was weak, and Jeremy swore he heard a groan.  _“Shit…”_

Jeremy smiled as he wiped the knife off on Gavin’s shirt.  “Oh, there’s no more Gav, Ryan. Did you like hearing him die?”

Ryan made another strained noise.  On an impulse, Jeremy slipped a hand into Gavin’s pocket.  A collection of metal parts jingled against his fingers.  

“Huh, damn, Gavin wasn’t lying.”  Jeremy pulled the parts out, looking them over.  He was still straddling Gavin’s dead body, and fuck if it wasn’t still a little hard against his ass.  “Almost a full gun here.”

_“Oh fuck you, Jeremy!”_

“I’ll just keep these…”  Jeremy slid the parts into his pocket and stood.  “You’re not gonna need ‘em, right Ryan?”

_“Nnnnh--”_

“Hey, Ryan.”  Jeremy’s voice was an excited whisper.  “You know what I’m gonna do now?”

He waited, patiently, for the frightened whine he knew the words would earn him.

“I’m gonna kill you.  Just like I killed the rest of them.”

_“J-Jeremy-”_

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, Ryan.”  Jeremy left Gavin’s body on the floor, picking his way through the puddles.  “It’s your turn now.”

The warehouse was big, but not big enough for Ryan to hide.  A strange anticipation was building in Jeremy’s chest, a thrill separate from the heady rush of each kill.  Shit… he could _win_ this.  He could be the last one standing in this warehouse. 

Ryan’s voice sounded strained.  _“Jack, is there anything I can say to change your mind about shooting Jeremy?”_

 _“Hmmmm…”_ Jack hummed cheerfully.  _“Nope!”_

_“Please, I’ll-- I’ll blow you, I’ll let you do anything you want to me--”_

_“Mm, tempting.  But I’ll get other chances to make you my bitch.”_

_“Jack, th-think about this._ ”  Ryan’s voice was tense with the effort to stay calm.  _“You’ve never been killed by Jeremy before.  I have. He--"_

_"Oh come on, are you talking about his first round?  A slit throat and a cock up your ass is downright gentle."_

_"Yeah, sure, and that was his first kill ever.  He was pretty gentle with me in bed the first time too.  You think that lasted?"_

_"...O-oh?"_

Jeremy chuckled.  “Well, I mean… guilty as charged.”

_"Listen, Jack, I've seen more horny Jeremy than the rest of you have. He’s a fuckin’ freak, he’s a real psycho.  Do you really want to be his last kill?”_

_“Ooooh, Ryan, stop.  You’ll make me cream my panties before he even gets here.”_

_“D-damn it--”_ Ryan made a noise into the com, stifled frustration.  _“I’ll fucking get you for this, Jack!”_

Jeremy rubbed his thumb over his knife as he strode through a musty warehouse piled with empty barrels. "Psycho?  Really, Ryan? _You’re_ gonna come at me with that?"

_“You’re damn right I am!  You’re a sadist!”_

“Heh.  You’d sure know.”  Jeremy scanned the shadows as he stalked through the jungle of old, dusty metal barrels.  “You’re an expert on sadism. What’s wrong, Ryan, are you afraid that I’m gonna do to you what you did to me?  That I’m gonna cut you up _real_ slow?”

His only response was a nervous hitch of breath.  Dangerous excitement crept up Jeremy’s spine, coaxing a grin to his face, an edge to his voice.

“Cause I think I will.  I think I’ll take my time with you, Ryan.  I’ll try out some of the stuff you did to _me._ I bet it feels better when I’m holding the knife--”

The click of a cocking gun made Jeremy freeze in his tracks and shot an ice cold chill down his spine.  He spun towards the sound with his knife raised, as though that would save him against a bullet.

Sitting daintily on an upturned steel barrel was Jack.  Her smile was warm, and her gun was pointed at Jeremy’s head. 

No no no no, he was so _close._

“Hey, Jeremy.  I’m gonna need you to stop right there.” 

Jeremy’s breath felt frozen.  The knife didn’t feel so powerful in his hand anymore, not with the cold abyss of that barrel staring him down.  He’d almost forgotten that the killer could die too.

“...H-hey, Jack.”  He swallowed, his mouth dry.  “Th-thought you wanted to see how I kill?”

“Oh, I do.”  Jack didn’t move the gun.  “That’s why I told you to come find me _last._ Ryan’s still out there, and he’s looking for a gun.  If he gets one, he’s not gonna just point it at your head and chat like I am.  He’ll fire before you see him.”

Slowly, Jeremy lowered his knife.  The tight grip of fear was loosening around his chest.  “You’re… you’re not gonna shoot me, are you?”

“I really don’t want to, honey.”  Jack crossed her legs without moving the gun.  “But I _do_ need you to go kill Ryan before I can put this gun down.  If you come closer, I’ve gotta pull the trigger. I can get killed quick in any game, I want to see what you do when you have _time._ ”

Starting to smile, Jeremy raised his hands-- knife still gripped in one-- in surrender.  “Hey, don’t worry. I promise, babe, this knife won’t touch you ‘til it’s got Ryan’s blood on it.” 

Jack smiled and pulled the gun back, letting it rest against her shoulder.  “I’ll be waiting!”

Jeremy indulged in a long look, his gaze trailing down from her bright smile over her body.  “Nnh. Good.”

Tearing his gaze away, he turned his back on the gun and walked away.  The shelves of barrels closed around him, and Jack’s gun never fired. Soon, Jeremy’s echoing footsteps were the only sound, aside from the distant rumble of thunder.

“You’re pretty quiet for someone whose last hope just died, Ryan,” Jeremy murmured. 

Silence over the com.  Jeremy started to frown, his steps slowing.  Come to think of it, Ryan had been quiet for a while.  He hadn’t said a word while Jeremy was talking to Jack.  No last-minute plea, no threats, not even a curse of frustration.

That was unusual.

Jeremy stopped.  “...You’re close by, aren’t you?”

It was faint, but he heard it: a sharp inhale over the com, barely muffled.  Jeremy started to smile.  

“...Yeah, you are.”  He turned back the way he came, walking slowly, scanning each corner.  “You’re holding your breath, huh? And unlike Jack…” Jeremy bit his lip as he peered around a towering stack of barrels.  “I bet you don’t have a full gun--”

Jeremy was almost knocked off his feet as Ryan bolted past him.  He stumbled, regaining his balance and taking off after Ryan.  

“Ha!” A savage grin split his face as he chased after Ryan.  “Fuckin’ found you!”

Jeremy’s feet pounded against the hard concrete ground. The impact reverberated up his legs. It felt powerful. It felt _right_ to be running after Ryan, knife in his hand, blade flashing with each pump of his arms. 

The gap between them was sizeable; Ryan had gotten a good head start.  Jeremy doubted it would last, though; Ryan had nowhere to go. His breath was ragged, panicked gasps slipping through the mic.  Animal-like fear trembled in each breath. Jeremy knew how that felt: hot vibrating adrenaline rushing through his veins and wobbling in his knees and buzzing in his ears, like a drug to slow him down so the killer could sink their claws in.  

Jeremy had been the prey enough times to know how it felt. 

Up ahead, Ryan skidded around a corner that Jeremy was _almost_ certain led to a dead end; nothing but a toppled water cooler that was probably, now, the driest thing in the leaky warehouse. A second later, a panicked wail over the com confirmed his suspicions.

 _“F-fuck!”_ The word was so loud that Jeremy could hear it outside the com.  _“G-god damn it, Jack, I’m gonna kill you!”_

_“Woo, get him, Jeremy!”_

Jeremy let his pounding footfalls slow to a walk as he approached the dead end.  His heart was pounding from the run, his breath quick with anticipation. He slid his thumb over the drying blood on his knife as he rounded the corner.

“Oh, Ryan… remember what I said on the helicopter about terrain advantage?”

The room was little more than a nook, three steep walls and a narrow door that was now blocked by Jeremy.  The sight of Ryan cornered there was almost too good to bear. His breath was heavy from the chase, his hands trembling by his sides.  He took a nervous step back, then froze as though remembering he had nowhere to run.

Jeremy gestured at their surroundings.  “I think I’m starting to know this map better than you do.”  

Ryan’s gaze darted from Jeremy’s face, to the knife in his hand, to the narrow space on either side of him.  The calculus was clear on his face, a frantic crunching of numbers to assess options and risk. The tension in his legs made it clear that he wasn’t going to lie down and take it.

 _He’ll try to pass on the side without the knife._ Jeremy gripped his knife harder, chewing his lip.  Ryan needn’t have worried. A quick slice would’ve been no fun.

“Last chance, Ryan.  Play nice and I’ll make it… well, I’ll make it less slow.”

He was ready when Ryan bolted.  His knife jumped from one hand to the other-- the same move he’d practiced while wandering the warehouse-- and he jammed it into Ryan’s arm.  Ryan bit down on a scream, and Jeremy shoved him to the floor.

“Gonna run again, Ryan?”  Jeremy advanced on him as Ryan scooted backwards across the floor, one hand gripping his bloody arm.  “Gonna at least _pretend_ you’re not aching for my knife? Do you like a chase on both sides, or is it less fun when you’re _prey_?”

Ryan whimpered softly, the sound barely audible if not for his mic. Broadcasting that sweet little surrender straight to Jeremy’s ear.

“Oh, you like it when I call you that?” Jeremy was close now, almost close enough to reach out and touch.  “You like knowing you’re my _prey_ ? My _victim_ ? That I’m gonna tear you to shreds and there’s _nothing_ you can do to stop me?”

Ryan froze as he bumped against the wall, cornered there. The threat of a slow death pressed him back against the stained concrete as surely as hands could.  His shaking legs were tantalizingly spread, as though to invite something other than death. Jeremy dropped to his knees between them.

"Hi, Ryan," he purred. "Are you having a fun game of Murder?”

“Sh-shit shit shit shit--”  Ryan’s voice was weak, his words nearly strangled by his rapid breath.  “F-fuck, I’m gonna die I’m gonna die...”

A sudden pang of uncertainty interrupted Jeremy’s rush.

Doubt, sour and cloying, twisted in his gut.  The head-spinning pleasure jerked to a stop, leaving an uncomfortable itch in its place that was only growing as Jeremy listened to the broken whine in Ryan’s breath.  He lowered his knife and cupped Ryan’s face.

“Hey, you okay?”  His voice was soft, almost as fragile as Ryan’s.  “This is… this is still okay, right?”

The fear didn’t leave Ryan’s eyes, but he lifted his hand, covering Jeremy’s and squeezing.  He took a deep, shaking breath to steady his voice. “Y-you’re okay. You… fuck, Jer, you should see yourself like this.  You look like a real goddamn killer. Looks…” He managed a weak laugh. “Looks good on you.”

The knot in his stomach loosened.  Jeremy let out a long breath. “...Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah.”  Ryan’s hand was still shaking, but he held Jeremy’s gaze.  “What about you? You wanna finish the game?”

“Yeah, fuck, I wanna finish the game, I just… just got scared for a minute that you weren’t okay.”

 _“It’s okay, Jeremy.”_ Jack’s voice was calm and reassuring in his ear. _“Ryan always whines when he knows he’s gonna die. Big sweetheart can dish it out but isn’t always brave about taking it. Go ahead and kill him if you’re ready. He’ll safeword if he needs to.”_

Jeremy watched Ryan’s face, looking for any dissent, any denial of Jack’s words. “That true?”

Ryan swallowed, struggling to control his breath.  His words seemed to barely escape his throat. “L-look, you… you got me, Jeremy.  You win, I lose. You… ” He took a breath, shuddering under Jeremy’s touch. “J-just claim your prize, you earned it.” 

“You sure?”

“F-fuck, Jer, if you’re drawing out the suspense on purpose, it’s fucking working,” Ryan stammered.  “K-kill me already, I can take it!”

A warm smile spread over Jeremy’s face.  He leaned close and bumped his forehead against Ryan’s.  “...I’m looking forward to this, you know,” he admitted softly.  “I still jack off thinking about how I killed you the first time.” 

Ryan let out a needy noise between his rapid breaths.  He rubbed his head against Jeremy’s, a gentle nuzzle. “...You know, it would be more sporting if you gave me a head start,” he ventured hopefully.

Jeremy laughed.  “You already had a head start.”

“You sure?  I’ll give you a damn good chase.” 

“Mmmh, no way, I’m not taking my hands off you.”  Jeremy’s hand slid from Ryan’s face down his neck, over his chest.  “Not until you stop breathing.”

“H-hnn…”

Ryan was warm and firm against him, tense body beautifully responsive to his touch. Jeremy’s hand found Ryan’s hip, coaxing him closer.  Practically pulling Ryan into his lap.

“Get nice and comfy, now,” he murmured.  He pulled back just enough to hold the knife between their lips.   “Gonna hold you close until there’s no breath left in your lungs.”

“H-holy shit, that’s-” Ryan buried his face against Jeremy’s shoulder as though hiding from the words. “G-gonna talk me off before you slit me…”

“Mmm, yeah.” Jeremy trailed the knife gently down Ryan’s neck, following the path he usually marked with kisses. “‘Cause I’m such a psycho in bed and all that.”

“Y-you’re not gonna let that go, huh?”

“Nah.”  Jeremy pulled back, tugging on Ryan’s arm.  “C’mere. Let’s get you comfy.”

Jeremy coaxed Ryan away from the wall, then laid him down gently on the damp concrete.  Ryan trembled as he complied. Jeremy cupped Ryan’s cheek with one hand even as his other pressed the knife, point-down, over his heart.

“How do you want this?” His tone was soft, intimate, as though Ryan was a shy lover. As though the anticipation in his eyes was for a different kind of penetration. “Nice and quick, or…” He trailed the knife down Ryan’s chest, down his belly, teasing the tip up under the hem of his shirt. “...you want me to really savor it?” 

“Nnnh--” Ryan shifted under him, body pushing up as though welcoming Jeremy in. “A-as if Jeremy Dooley was gonna slit me quick.  D-do it how you want it, I know what you like.”

“Heh, you know what I like, huh?”

“Yeah.”  Ryan flinched with a hiss as the knife dragged up his body, pulling his shirt up and leaving a flushed red line where it almost broke skin.  “Y-you psycho.”

Ryan’s hands were at Jeremy’s hips, fingertips hesitating at the seams of his pants, groping more fabric than skin. Those same hands that had held him down countless times, pressed bruises into his skin, now almost trembling against him.  This wasn’t struggling; Ryan wasn’t wasn’t pushing him away. There was a fearful, cautious _desire_ in that touch.

“Something you want, Ryan?” Jeremy’s hands slid down to cover Ryan’s, the handle of the knife pressed between his palm and the back of Ryan’s hand like a lover’s rose. “C’mon, I’m not the only psycho here.”

Ryan’s grip tightened for a moment, his breath quick and shallow.  “I-I just… I wanna touch you while you...”

Jeremy leaned over him with a groan, the knife finding Ryan’s exposed chest.  “While I kill you?”

“Ah-- f-fuck--”

Jeremy scraped the knife in a slow arc, shining steel against vulnerable skin.  Inches under that blade was Ryan’s racing heart. The reality of the impending murder was starting to thump in Jeremy’s chest.  Echos of his past kills seemed to hum in the knife, like the tingling aftershocks of a good lay.  

His own heart was pounding.  Soon it would be the only one.

“...You know, I know what you like too…”  Jeremy was breathless, his gaze locked on the flash of his blade.  “I can make this… nnh… real good for you…”

His knife bit down slowly, an agonizing drag across Ryan’s chest, until a sweet wet _scarlet_ bloomed in its wake.  Jeremy’s gasp matched Ryan’s cry of pain as the knife dragged in a crimson arc across his chest...

Ryan’s hand slipped into Jeremy’s pocket and locked around the gun parts.  Before Jeremy could blink, his vision was eclipsed by Ryan’s fist.

The warehouse reeled, hard concrete hit his shoulder, and crackling pain throbbed in his jaw for the second time.  Jeremy cursed against the floor amid the frantic sound of shoes scraping on dusty concrete.

“Mother _fuck--_ ” Jeremy cringed as he rubbed his twice-bruised jaw.  “Same _fucking_ spot!”

By the time Jeremy hauled himself to his feet, Ryan was gone from his vision, but his footsteps were loud and frantic down the hall.  Seething, Jeremy picked up his knife and raced after the sound.

“You’re fucking _dead,_ Haywood!”

“You wanna fucking finish the game, huh?”  Ryan’s voice echoed from down the hall. “I’ll goddamn finish it!”

As Jeremy rounded the corner and raced down the hall, he could see Ryan up ahead.  He was fumbling with something as he ran. This wasn’t a dead sprint like before; there was something distracted about Ryan’s strides.  The gap between the two of them was shrinking fast.

Jeremy’s heart jumped into his throat when he heard the click of a fully-assembled _gun._

Ryan spun around with the barrel raised just as Jeremy slammed into him.

They hit the ground hard, skidding on the concrete. Jeremy’s knife was pressed against Ryan’s throat, hard enough that the wetness of blood shimmered along the blade.  He swallowed, and his throat bobbed against something cold. Something… something was nudged under Jeremy’s jaw.  

Jammed against his thumping pulse was the familiar shape of a gun.  

For a moment, the two men stared at each other, breathing hard, weapons at each other’s juglars.  Jeremy’s knife, so hungry for the kill moments ago, was frozen now. The sudden, visceral fear of dying had him paralyzed.  It would take a fraction of a second for Ryan’s finger to squeeze the trigger.

Why… why hadn’t Ryan fired his gun?

A glint caught Jeremy’s eye.  Despite the gun at his throat, his gaze turned, locking on a spark of movement a few feet to their left.  A bullet rolled across the concrete floor, a brassy shimmer in the dim light. The gun had never been loaded.

Ryan panted, his empty gun shaking slightly against Jeremy’s neck, the color slowly draining from his face.

“...F-fuck,” he choked.

Jeremy’s breath was still shallow.  “...You gonna pull the trigger?”

“I-I… nnh…”

“Go on, Ryan.  You went through all the trouble of assembling that gun.”  His knife pressed harder against Ryan’s throat.  “Pull. The. Trigger.”

Ryan flinched as the gun clicked uselessly.  His hand was starting to shake. Jeremy groaned and dragged the knife down Ryan’s neck, leaving a thin red slice.

“Yeah.  That’s right.  You’ve got nothing left.”

“Aah--”  Ryan dropped the empty gun, his hands gripping at the concrete floor instead, white knuckled in pain as Jeremy’s knife moved along his collarbone.  “F-fuck--!”

“Aww, what’s wrong?  Does it hurt?” Jeremy pressed the bloody knife to Ryan’s arm.  “ _Good_.”

“J-Jeremy, I-- nnh--”  Ryan hissed as the knife _cut._ “A-about the whole gun thing, I was just--”

“Just what, hm?  Trying to do something other than put a bullet in my skull?”

The discarded bullet was rolling closer.  Jeremy leaned over and picked it up, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, watching Ryan’s eyes widen.

“This what you wanted, Ryan?  Wanted me to use some toys?”

He rolled the small metal cylinder between his fingers, pretending to study it. Pretending he didn’t see Ryan’s throat bob as he swallowed. 

“Hoping I’d take a page from Gavin’s playbook?” He traced the bullet gently over Ryan’s lips. “Want me to put this to good use?  To _load_ this bullet the way you couldn’t?”

“Nnnnn--!”

Jeremy flicked the bullet away, and it clattered across the floor.  “Nah, that’s not what I’m gonna slide inside you, Ryan. You wanna guess what I _am_ gonna slide in?”

Ryan’s chest was heaving as Jeremy shoved his shirt up, exposing him.  “Y-y-your… tongue?” His voice was weak with hope.

“Ha.”  Jeremy pressed the tip of the knife against Ryan’s chest.  “Guess again.”

“O-oh god, your-- your c-cock?”

Jeremy’s jaw twitched and he carved down in a harsh curving line.  _“Again._ ”

“Aaah--!”  Ryan’s hips _bucked_ under him.  “Y-your knife!”

“That’s fucking right.  You’re about to take several inches of steel, baby.”  The knife pressed, carving a small slit that had Ryan hissing in pain.  “Can you feel this?” 

“Y-yeah, I f-feel it-- sh-shit--”

“No.” The knife trailed downwards, ending the stroke with an upward flourish. “ _Really_ feel it.”

“I- I don’t--”

Two more flicks of the blade, one crossed over the other. Then another line. Another flourish. A downward motion.  Ryan twitched with each motion, but then he sucked in a breath that had nothing to do with pain. 

“A-are you...c-carving our initials into me?”

“Mmm… yeah.” Jeremy looped the knife in a wide arc, encircling J+R in a dripping red heart.  He smeared his hand over the bloody image, panting as he felt Ryan flinch under him. “God… nnnh, I wanna hear you fucking beg.”

Ryan’s dilated eyes seemed to have trouble focusing on him.  The pain and shock and blood loss must be getting to him. His bloody chest heaved under Jeremy’s hand. 

“B-beg...?”

“Beg me to kill you quick.”  Jeremy leaned over him, knife pressed to Ryan’s neck.  “Beg me to kill you _now.”_

“I-I--”  Ryan’s voice was shattered.  “P-please, please, I’ll be good, make it quick--”

He plunged the knife into Ryan’s throat, all the way to the hilt.  The rush hit him so hard that he gasped, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Ryan as the shocks ran through him.  

“F-fuck… fuck...”

There was no movement in the warm body under him.  Eyes still closed, Jeremy smeared his hand shakily over the red heart on Ryan’s chest.  His breath was heavy, but Ryan’s breath was still.

“God… th-that was… good…”

Slowly, Jeremy stumbled to his feet.  Ryan was a bloody mess on the floor, sliced up and motionless with death.  Jeremy remembered the first time he’d seen a corpse that looked like that. Looked _tortured._ Now he was the one standing over it with bloody hands.

He remembered where he had left Jack.

Blood dripped from his knife as Jeremy retraced his steps through the warehouse.  Dark stains were drying on his pants, on his hands, in splatters up his arms. The smear of blood Gavin had left on his chin was stiff against his skin.  He could hear his breathing, his footsteps, the soft sound of blood hitting the floor, the drumming of rain. 

Jack was sitting right where he’d left her, perched delicately on a barrel, tantalizingly _alive_.  Jeremy’s gaze dragged up her long, bare legs to her bright eyes.  Her soft auburn hair tickled her neck. There was no gun in her hand.  

Jack smiled, bright and unafraid.  “Jeremy! I’m so proud of you, I can’t believe you got all of them!”  She didn’t move even as he drew closer, knife in hand, but her gaze moved over him in awe.  “Damn, you’re a mess… whose blood is that?”

“It’s…” Jeremy let out a long breath, his gaze dropping from her bright smile to her chest.  Not enough buttons undone. Fuck, the power trip was making him lightheaded. “It’s everyone’s.”

Jack shivered.  He could hear her breath.  “Fuck, Jeremy… What do you want to do to me?”

Something in the corner of Jeremy’s vision pulled his gaze away from Jack, though he wasn’t sure why until his gaze settled on it.  The gun lay on the floor, several barrels away. No tricks. No trap. She was really going to let him do this.

… God, what _did_ he want?  This was his endgame, he had all the time in the world.  No one could stop him. He could do anything, he… he wanted… 

Jeremy groaned, his grip tightening on the knife.  He reached towards Jack, dipped two fingers into the collar of her shirt, closed his hand in a firm grip.  “I want to do _everything_.”

He slipped the blade of the knife down the front of her shirt, slotted into her cleavage.  Jack’s breath quickened, a soft hiss at the touch of cold metal on bare skin. The touch left smears of Ryan’s blood on her breasts. 

“Hold still.”  Jeremy sawed slowly down with the knife, slicing through her shirt, blade almost grazing her chest.  “I wanna cut you. But not yet.”

His blade caught on her bra, slicing slowly through the elastic.  Jeremy’s breath was growing heavier. As the bra popped open, his hand twitched, the knife jerking down in a hungry little slash and opening up a thin slice just below Jack’s breasts.

“A-ah--”

Jeremy’s hand followed the path of his knife, slipping under Jack’s ruined bra and brushing it out of the way.  Grabbing a handful. _God._ Big and soft and warm, heavy in his hand.  

“Nnnh, Jeremy…”

A single drop of blood was starting to drip down where his knife had nicked her. His knife sliced down through her shirt, cutting it open from neck to navel, as he pressed her nipple between two fingers.

“J-Jeremy--”  Jack’s breath caught when his knife ripped through the last of her shirt.  “O-oh, fuck, you’re _eager--”_

With a groan, Jeremy leaned over her, burying his face in her neck.  “Nnh, yeah.” With the tip of the knife, he brushed her torn shirt away from her chest.  “With a prize like this? Yeah I’m fucking eager.” 

Warm, smooth skin, already marked by dripping blood… fuck, it wasn’t enough, couldn’t be enough. He needed _everything_. Jeremy sunk to his knees with a groan, hand sliding down Jack’s body.  His knife stayed on her chest, trailing over a stiffening nipple.

“A-ah--”

Greedily, Jeremy’s hand slid over her thigh, coaxing her legs to spread.  Her tight little shorts were doing _nothing_ to hide how hard she was.  Jeremy’s breath was heavy as he fumbled with her shorts one-handed, his knife pressing harder against her breast.  He popped the button, tugged them open, and her pretty cock bounced out.

“A-are you gonna f--”  Jack’s body jolted as his mouth slid over her.  “O-oh -- _oh--!_ ”

 _God._ Jeremy’s hand tightened on her thigh as he swallowed her down.  Warm and firm and smooth, and god Jeremy didn’t know what kind of body wash Jack used but it made her smell like a lavender-scented dessert.  

“J-J-Jeremy, oh god, I-I’m not complaining but I d-don’t-- don’t think--”  Jack’s thigh tensed under his hand as he swallowed her down deep. “--a-ahh-- don’t think you’ll be able to _kill_ me with a blowjob--”

Jeremy’s mouth slid slowly up until he was panting against her slick shaft.

“You sure?  Seems like I’m taking your breath away.”

Jack whined as his tongue slid over her.  “Nnh--”

“Mmmh, don’t worry.”  Still looking up at her, Jeremy pressed the tip of the knife against the underside of her breast.  “When I kill you, I’ll use the knife. But not until I’m done.”

The sharp blade tilted up, nearly cutting into soft flesh as it lifted Jack’s breast.  She shuddered, her cock twitching against Jeremy’s lips.

“Nnh, f-fuck, y-your inexperience isn’t slowing you down at _all_ …”

Jeremy’s breath was growing heavy.  He pressed the knife harder and harder until Jack tensed in pain, and a single crimson drop trickled down the blade.  He let his mouth slide back over her, and her whine of pain melted into a desperate whimper.

“A-ah, god--!”

The rush of power was making Jeremy’s head spin as his mouth pumped over her cock.  His grip on Jack’s thigh was tightening, probably bruising, groans slipping out of him whenever he wasn’t gagged.  This felt _better_ than a normal kill.  God, he wished he’d had the time to fuck every one of them, really _claim_ his victims before killing them.

“J-Jeremy--” Jack’s voice was thin, wrecked.  “Y-you’re gonna make me-- a-ah--”

Jeremy’s gaze flicked up.  He pressed the knife hard into her skin and took her _deep_.

He _felt_ Jack throb in his mouth as she came with a cry.  He groaned around her, fingers possessively digging into her thigh, pinning her in place as he swallowed.  His knife pressed deeper, hungry and greedy, until there was blood trickling down Jack’s belly in a thin red stream.

“A-a-ah _Jeremy--!”_

With one more swallow, Jeremy pulled back and gasped for air.  He stood, breathing as hard as Jack, cupping her flushed face in his hand.

“God damn you look good…”

Jack looked damn near drunk with pleasure.  Jeremy’s hand wandered down, from soft lips to soft neck to soft, _soft_ chest.  Jack moaned when he gave her breast a slow squeeze, pressing his fingers into the cut and smearing blood over her skin.

“Nnnh, good girl…”  Jeremy lifted his hand again and slid his bloody thumb over her lip, then dipped it into the wet heat of her mouth.  “Get… get down on your knees… nnnh fuck… ”

Jack obeyed, falling to her knees as readily as though he had shoved her there.  Jeremy kept his thumb in her mouth, kept her hazy gaze tilted up towards him. He nudged his knife gently under her jaw, breathing an order that was more panting than voice.

“Blow me.”

Jack nodded dizzily, her hands already fumbling with his jeans.  Jeremy sucked in a sharp breath when those perfectly manicured hands brushed the straining bulge in his pants.  God _damn_ he was hard.

“I have lube.”  Jack’s lips moved against Jeremy’s thumb as she spoke.  “It’s -- nnh -- strawberry flavored. You want me to prep anything?”

God, the thought was tantalizing.  Jack under him, _around_ him, taking his cock with a knife to her throat… 

But Jeremy didn’t have the patience for prep.

He pressed knife to skin, savoring the soft indentation of the blade against her cheek, _just_ enough pressure not to cut. “Don’t…” The command lingered on his tongue for a moment before he spoke the words. “Don’t get ideas.”

“Mmm.” Jack shifted against the knife as she slipped his cock out of his pants, pink lips just an inch from the head.  “No, sir.”

Jeremy shuddered as she pressed a soft, wet, hungry kiss against him.  _Fuck,_ he’d been fantasizing about that view for ages.  He could feel Jack’s breath as she dragged her tongue up the side.  With a groan, Jeremy pressed the knife against her cheek until he saw blood.  There, _now_ the view was perfect.

“Nnnh, go on, take it all the way…”

Jack’s lips parted over the head of his cock and slid _slowly_ down.  Jeremy’s knees almost gave out, his knife digging into her cheek again.  As Jack swallowed him, she leaned forward against the blade, and Jeremy made no move to give ground. He held it firmly in place, watched breathlessly as soft beads of red slid from behind the metal.

_Fuck._

“G-god, that’s it…”  Jeremy’s hips shifted, a shaky thrust into that warm, willing mouth.  He tangled his fingers in her auburn hair, coaxing her down. “G-get me off before I slit you, nhh…”

He swore he could feel Jack’s pulse against his cock.  Hot, vulnerable life, all his to take. Jeremy’s hand shook in Jack’s hair, his hips jerking as her mouth slid up and down his shaft.  He turned the knife, using the flat edge to smear the blood along her cheek. She was gagging, breath stifled by him, a beautiful sound.  God, he liked the symmetry of that: taking away her breath first with his mouth, then his cock, then his knife.

Fuck, he wasn’t gonna last long.

“J-Jack--”  Jeremy gasped as she _sucked._ “Nnnh, god, I-I’m gonna come-- fuck, k-keep your-- mouth on me--”

The force of it almost took his legs out from under him.  Jack held his hips tighter, nearly holding him up as he cursed through his teeth and shuddered in pleasure, pulsing down her throat.  Sweet little noises slipped out of her, half-gagged by his cock, satisfied little purrs. 

“F-fuck--”  Jeremy’s hips jerked, plunging deep one more time.  “O-oh fuck…”

His grip on her hair loosened.  Jack’s mouth slid off him slowly, from base all the way to the tip, until she pulled back with a gasp.  Her breath steamed against his cock, her lips parted, as though begging him to slide back inside.  

Jeremy dropped to his knees in front of her, his shaking hand finding her face, cupping it reverently.  

“God, Jack…”

Satisfaction was settling over him, heavy and intense.  Slowly, Jeremy lifted the knife to her throat, tilting it and watching it shimmer.  His vision seemed to sway.

He felt so good, so sated, but there was still something he _wanted._

“You okay, honey?” Jack’s voice was breathless, but gentle.  Her hand pressed against his thigh in soft concern, as though the knife at her throat wasn’t there.  “It’s okay if you need to stop here.”

Slowly, Jeremy shook his head.  “No, I... I wanna finish the game.”   Lightly, too gentle to cut, he dragged the knife across Jack’s throat, just to see how it looked.  “I just… nnh… wanna enjoy this part…”

“It’s okay.”  Jack tilted her neck, giving consent to the knife.  He could hear her breath. “I’m ready. You can do it.”

Jeremy groaned and wound his fingers into her hair, nuzzling his face against one side of her neck with his knife pressed against the other.  “Jack?” he mumbled.

“Y-yeah?”

“You were _so_ good.”

His knife slashed across her throat.

Distantly, thunder rumbled.  Jeremy panted against Jack’s neck as hot blood dripped over his fingers.  He loosened his grip on her hair, and she slumped to the floor.  

For a few surreal moments, the warehouse was truly, perfectly quiet.  Rain mumbled on the distant ceiling, Jeremy’s breath the only thing disturbing the still air.  He pulled back from Jack’s body, leaning back against a barrel with a heavy thump.

It was… strange how peaceful this was.  Dust, blood, and the smell of rain.  

His com beeped softly.  Like a gentle hand reaching towards him, Geoff’s familiar voice came through.

_“Congratulations, lil’ J!  You just won your first game of Murder!”_

He could hear whoops and cheers behind Geoff’s voice.  An exhausted smile was spreading across Jeremy’s face. He leaned back against the barrel, closing his eyes and letting the voices wash over him.

_“And holy shit did you make it a show!”_

_“The way you chased Ryan down even after he took the gun parts?  Bloody relentless!”_

_“I’m not even mad that I died early, this was some top-grade cinema!”_

Jeremy’s chuckle was tired and satisfied.  “Yeah, it was pretty good for me too.”

_“How you feeling, buddy?”_

“Good…”  Jeremy let out a long breath.  _“Fucking_ good.  Holy shit.  I can’t… I can’t believe I got all of you.”

 _“You sit tight, okay?”_ Michael’s voice was warm with encouragement. _“The three of us are gonna come pick you up and hug the shit out of you.”_

“...Three?” Jeremy frowned, eyes still closed.  “Which three?”

_“Gav and Geoff and me.  Ryan’s, uh…”_

Geoff snickered.  _“Ryan’s busy getting some payback on Jack.  I’m sure they’ll catch up.”_

Jeremy’s eyes snapped open and his spent cock twitched.  He’d somehow forgotten that, when he killed Jack, he was delivering her, naked, to a room full of people she’d betrayed.  

“...Oh.  Fuck.”

 _“Oh, and by the way…”_ Geoff’s voice softened.  _“Ryan says to tell you that you did good.  Everything you did, it was good, and he loved it.  And that likes you and shit and he’s a gross romantic.”_

 _“A gross romantic who’s choking Jack in her pod,”_ Gavin quipped.

_“Don’t ruin the moment, idiot.”_

Jeremy smiled.  “Sounds like Ryan.”

 _“We’ll stay on the line, yeah?”_ Gavin’s voice.  _“Keep you company til we can hug you in person.”_

Jeremy let out a long breath and hauled himself to his feet.  “Sounds good. I’ll meet you outside.”

_“You sure?  We can come find you.”_

“Nah.”  Jeremy listened to the rumble of thunder as he walked through the dusty warehouse.  It was strange, walking through these halls without fear of death. “I’ve fantasized about this moment.  It’s better if I’m alone for it. But… stay on the line, okay?”

He knew the way back to the entrance.  Geoff and Gavin and Michael chattered in his com, gushing about the highlights of the game and showering him in praise.  It kept a warm glow in his chest as his footsteps echoed in the silent warehouse. Before long, his feet led him to the same place he’d started, a narrow doorway with rain beyond.  Jeremy hesitated at the threshold. After a moment, he stepped outside.

Thunder rumbled, wind catching the rain.  It peppered his face. Jeremy tilted his face up, closed his eyes, and took a long, deep breath.

He’d walked into that warehouse plenty of times.  But this was his first time walking out.

**Author's Note:**

> There will absolutely be sequels to this.


End file.
